Raquel Nobre Guerra has a degree and a master’s degree in philosophy from the University of Lisbon and attended the doctorate program with a scholarship in literary studies. She has published Groto Sato (Mariposa Azual, 2012), her first book of poetry, distinguished with the Portuguese PEN Club Prize in 2012 and Culturgest/CGD Prémios Novos; Saudação a Álvaro de Campos (“Plaquette,” Palavras Por dentro, 2012); Quarto 28: SMS de Amor e Ódio (Amor-Livro, Residências no Largo, 2013); and Senhor Roubado (Douda Correria, 2016), a semifinalist for the Prémio Oceanos, which was also published in Brazil (Sêlo Demônio, 2016), Berlin (Hochroth Verlag, trans. Odile Kennel), and Bogotá (Puro Pássaro, trans. Jeronimo Pizarro).
Margarida Vale de Gato translates, writes, teaches and researches. She is Assistant Professor in American Studies in ULisboa, School of Arts and Humanities. As a literary translator, she has translated canonical French and English authors into Portuguese (Sarraute, Michaux, Carroll, Yeats, Twain, Kerouac, Munro). She has published the poetry collections Lançamento (Douda Correria, 2016) and Mulher ao Mar (Mariposa Azual, 2010), with the enlarged editions Mulher ao Mar Retorna (2013). and Mulher ao Mar e Grinalda (2018). For the stage, she wrote with Rui Costa Desligar e Voltar a Ligar (2011).
Margarida Vale de Gato translates, writes, teaches and researches. She is Assistant Professor in American Studies in ULisboa, School of Arts and Humanities. As a literary translator, she has translated canonical French and English authors into Portuguese (Sarraute, Michaux, Carroll, Yeats, Twain, Kerouac, Munro). She has published the poetry collections Lançamento (Douda Correria, 2016) and Mulher ao Mar (Mariposa Azual, 2010), with the enlarged editions Mulher ao Mar Retorna (2013). and Mulher ao Mar e Grinalda (2018). For the stage, she wrote with Rui Costa Desligar e Voltar a Ligar (2011).
The proper way to eat a poet, in society, is to split him in two with an iron spoon as deep as possible into the sole of the skull with a ruthless albeit elegant blow you are on honeymoon, the deal is to imagine just how much of a liar that male muse is with the ruse of one who selects a movie from the opening score: tan-tan-taan-tan tan-tan-tan-tan-taaan heroic Universal Pictures in twenty-three bars with you all a-spinning in beginnings, all a-sweet enclosed in a fig I wish I could come across like I draw my strength from movie skins, make up an excuse to try to snatch those very teachings — with this garland I’ll wipe out the ugly in others I’ll crisscross the violence of those who rot I will eat D. H. Lawrence’s figs inside his belly of night lights to tell you do not eat them, get a close shave at the boisterous muscle rising with discipline, mastering with passion and dig up the clearest jewel of the flame that loves persevere like the loaf that waits to rise your poet is full of self-serving masters it’s all the company he will give you, your poet is a shrinking sun, a slant in your chambers or else go and eat him with your scything rage the meal’s forecast is that you starve on the way back.
