Prose
   Romanesque
   In a wild state
   Catherine Wheel
   Seven Sages
   Recreation
   Mandala
   Wandering riders
   Sabba
Poetry
   Beyond curtain
   A love poison
   Plautinus
   Blind world
   Plancton
   Jack O'Lantern
   Giotto's pastels
   Mab
   Preludes to Lutin
versione italiana
english version




Yesterday I was dead assassinated/   after a visit to the embassy/   of the country I left as a child/   to be here the pretty lady./   They told me to go back there/   at least for the Rio carnival./   I am a transvestite ghost/   sewn mouth under the crazy Hat./   With my magnifying glass/   I have seen the evil in his face/   under a thick blanket of powder./   I went to noble parties/   among offenders in freedom/   and innocent people killed behind the slabs./   Then I returned to my italian favela/   between smashed strollers, buried animals/   driven even from jail/   sent to die in the open air./   I have nothing else to be but/   the girlfriend of the dead men in war/   mutilated like the statues of Rome/   that love me. Now I am Mantra.

... from World Vision CLOSE X
Here Casilino nine, zero two times
the numbers of the devil.
They exhibited a sign
saying he is son of the same father
but they ignore Father, Son and Spirit.
Further on they watch the spiders
hidden between the thick grass.
The heavy notes don't come on
the tormented yell of the guitar
passing through the air of the Misters.
Children smoke nervous
waiting for a lift by the monster
most times a capable person.
Choose now between the bastards saying
right things, the ones you want
and they hold them all for themselves.
Or the watchers of the aliens
came up from nothing without notice.
Present yourself to the vips
in the day of the selections
to perform shows of yourself.
As youngster stretching your legs
as old person the arms, the revenue.
You are in a excellent place
where the man did his best
with trailers of short and long duration.
Do you still want an engagement?
The sect is ready for the hiring.



Trilly flies over flooded sheds
over the drowsy watchers
eliminators of ghettos
florists of the dead men at the acceptance
of Bruttafaccia sat in seat
to mark on the crossed registry
more or less alien presences
to resend to inter space.
The benefactors of the humanoids
march into the faces big book
where is not the raped child
in exchange for jeans and cakes
who disappeared in the nothing
to clean up the streets of the city
women without any permission.
Donors of infected blood
cry with onion slices
while the skeleton with mustaches
outbursts worms all around
from the well guarded European grave.


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