Q: If you had to define your poetry in a few words or in an expression, what would you say? And what about the word ‘Poetry’?
A: The search for the essence inhibits an answer, no matter how timid. Poetry has no other precursor except hunger, or any other successor except crime.
Q: I understand your poetry as a challenge to the poem’s own constitution in as much as it is an object whereby – in the sense of the accumulation of a sign’s cultural markers – you sometimes touch a surrealistic universe. What is the meaning of such an abundance of references in your poetry?
A: The confluence of cultural signs doesn’t always function in the same manner in the texts. There is no single meaning in this strategic mapping. The Adamastor’s* mouth is as good for sinking carracks as it is for spitting out the stones on to the floor of our aesthetical indifference.
Q: The universe of women’s poetry writing has increased in latest years. How do you see this trend (reasons, motives, themes) in which you are yourself included?
A: There must be some confusion here. I don’t include myself. I don’t know what that is, ‘The universe of women’s poetry writing’. It sounds to me like an attempt at domestication and at the same time as sexist segregation. I would hardly think of writing as if it were a trend. We are all heroes here. We’ve already hired the trenches, polished the bullets, but it’s very hard to take off our pajamas.
* From Wikipedia: Adamastor is a Greek-type mythological character famed by the Portuguese poet Luís de Camões in his epic poem Os Lusíadas (first printed in 1572), as a symbol of the forces of nature Portuguese navigators had to overcome during their discoveries. Camões gave his creation a history as one of the Gigantes of Greek mythology who had been spurned by Thetis, now appearing in the form of a threatening storm cloud to Vasco da Gama and threatening ruin to anyone hardy enough to pass the Cape and penetrate the Indian Ocean, which was Adamastor’s domain. Adamastor became the Spirit of the Cape, a hideous phantom of unearthly pallor:
Even as I spoke, an immense shape
Materialised in the night air,
Grotesque and enormous stature
With heavy jowls, and an unkempt beard
Scowling from shrunken, hollow eyes
Its complexion earthy and pale,
Its hair grizzled and matted with clay,
Its mouth coal black, teeth yellow with decay.
— Camões, The Lusiads Canto V.