A disaster overflows its materiality. It takes the form of mud, diffuse, it hurt in time and space. It overflows, beyond the clippings to package it. It does not settle in the Rio Doce basin. It dislocates in disasters. In the (embarrassed) look at things and beings. I am backing to it, but not to the contaminated field, which is of the order of the perverse accident, get out of hands, of omission. Disaster inhabits the unconscious and thus returns.