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Prayers

And something in the flesh

that belies the time and dig the hole
most beautiful mistress of civilization, that there
short,
that you wanted to buy a
Padre Pio
stuck on a pan.
O column, from which the river

wander in the lovely city of contemporary modern

bidètistico Christian archetype.
You are the blood of the lamb, you're all
, and music of love and glory until

that nail you in the palm.
When you're alone does not advance anything.
Now that we are in your Wi-Fi
might console a man who cries,
or crazy, so much that you want to say: My God.
not crying for three years
before this walk under the stars exaggerated
distant and inseparable
like the teeth of a miserable
crying Saints.
's more than I go to the resurrected tears
sink in the most beautiful dream of a second.

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Modern Love is ended, go in peace

most beautiful of all divine
she stops me smile
already talking about human beings, man.
All is lost,
beauty and posture of a hero.
Who am I? Paola
embraces the tree and smoke while
below

fighting an ant with a crumb of bread.
was the ending, but every morning I left to stay in love

moving
kisses and phrases in a time that maybe if
will go to pant in the parapets of the sea. What
quiet, but love is a love that ends well

without swearing and cursing
in the garden of ducks and dogs.
He calls me, kisses me on the cheek and leaves
.
'll call you every now and then before

stop loving you I'll call you as if, after a kiss
nothing was impossible. Even this speech
useless.

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The trip


sense that time of youth who went on the components of courage
Scilla
and higher
in sips and altars
d'Isonzo and Vesuvius
jogging chromates
of fog and ridges.


Now walk in the roar of a summer traffic jam
ale in passing
of bel canto and wine into the asphalt
blasphemed.

You're crazy, and God knows, with that

sleeping bag rolled up on his shoulders,

straw hat and sandals who have seen mud,
light and tears.

And do not go to anyone, and women

as countries pass the roadside on which the stubble
sway
insatiable and vain.

Calli, and laugh
pedestrian simple.

Ah its fountains;
are relatives who tell
dreams in wheat fields in Umbria
crossings or autumn.

Wanderer, who had health

of memory and a twitch of a gentleman,
go,
and suspicions that
pandemonium of horns and sweat
die so beautiful harmony.

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Window

I get up and go to the window.
Nurses
lower taxes while the kids are looking for a father in the street, where asphalt and old
curious

pebbles are moved remembering the war.



So scarce human race, pink
synthesis of Capital. And it was already in Mississippi
ships Strive
of ancestral mists spread on bread,
Po was that you wanted to dream
white and sweet winter
which dampens the noise of the Popes in hell skirts.
You are a builder and I North, tired hands that caress

an eyelash fell beyond the mirror.
Better not exist, that a thousand times
expect a smile.

League, Green Cross of urgency, in the pile
know the least worst is held.
And I'd be a thief to want you badly, why not a bastion

you save the children, but not even a slap
,
perhaps maybe romance.
Now also my hero
it will sell the furniture and under the guise of

relatives will return to dance on
musts September.

Easter, a gray blanket on a menage a trois of brothers

overwhelmed by night.
They pretend not to know, but will start, from what
bleeding and command. Not even a hawk will

the farther I need them.
I live and I feel a terror
next and then another and another until

live with the loneliness of a modern Southerner.


I get up and go to the window.
Nurses
taxes rise again while the old looking for a child on the street, where asphalt and

curious children laughing on a miniskirt and high heels trans
that is stuck in the rails of a tramways.

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LSD

Fame and viruses
ankles resting on a GIRL with crisp golden curls. The curtain of gauze


he plays with the breast and then the wind
a bottle with a candle in the neck
full of dead flies.

heard the sound of Nairobi?
come the sailors of the churches
erotic harem with the Babylonians to buy pills Monaco,
Jesuits on white mules. The Empire

grin like a flashing neon
wants the blues than once.

Opus Dei smiles to Cayman, but
Zaire complains.

Harmonise the massacres.

rounded on the shoulders of pallbearers from the daughters of whiskey sitting
Ababa, and triumph, war.

The guineas are massacred
faces of alcoholic mothers, baptized,
the tombs already 'on top of each offer.

veiled death
justify the piles of blood on which the soldiers
off cigarettes.

time expands the gross
friendship of the trench, then yawns
bombs and ugly death rattle of the intestine.
dragged away because I was annoyed
mangled flesh in my oasis.

's all over, infibulation, in the tenth dream

forced to pinch her sister who does not speak.

You look like a crystal amulet
and cry in the reflection of a virgin
that has nothing.

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Core and Metamorphosis

Egalite '
was written at the end of thought.

A blacksmith ivory bones pinch
side of the mouth and chewed restless
perhaps crying.

With binoculars the ladies hitched
Poets jute hats with the waltz.

From Saxony to the ghetto coal
slipped between the pincers and mice,
the sober warmth of the race
fondled coaches,
while the blood out of the meat slid
with hail in the sewers.

The judge returned 'to the proceedings
and everyone was there: the raucous whores railroad
the maid Crimea and lakes where fly
trains
and white shirts for children.

The frau in uniform adorned the sky
rigged as the stars of Pigalle.

A handful useless straighten me 'look,
to catch up on the pajamas.

Wind Egypt gold
David and Goliath knotted
on the only branch of the desert.

Gypsies in the dark by their children
the stars in their eyes.
oil lamps from the window
stood in the wind, the night, waiting like
bells
the curious death.

soul comes when the wounds
hands begin to like
and the dead stand up
to govern your
despair because there are no more 'schools and sermons
doubts and accusations, but only dancing calculated to infinity,
feet asleep, as
mountains around Recipes.

Jacob was sitting, with salt in his mouth,
arms, he said then: I'm afraid.

Professors at funeral
went to the house from the rim
and took us to the showers.

Gravity 'start' to find,

there was no water, there was no one ,

and the dream was already 'a dead man.


Number?!

The core of the prey away,
then the shots, I turned
my father put a smile on my puberty '
unreal and metamorphosis, as a sigh
flew in the dream of his childhood.

number ?!!!!

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Padre Padrone

And always, a master

not even hope to God I'm already tired

only to see his face, better to think

tits daughter
that sometimes overlooks
balcony to smoke a cigarette.
Fhuuuuu, Nunzio
scaccola three whores
while welding a water heater and I

leaving the palace gate in the empty ashtray in hand with

extravagance in mechanics.
Three snails on the barbed wire
melt in the sun;
I comb in the barrel of water

without giving importance to the details.
Saturday morning, the supermarket
single

to spend a day of work.
pasta and coffee, juice and ice cream


a beer and a woman's face
to remember for the evening.
was old my father caressed

why do not more my mother.
Women with children are crying
quickly. First and last groan

treads on the sides of these fathers who
Saints.
I killed before I
but who cares, death
here has nothing to do anything. The kennel away
foam with rage,
the city to look good is not
make me mad then, and
'true Pa'?
The cemetery at night is an album
without photos.
It is also their
dawn and start work.
good rest.

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I faint and I mean

E 'worse than when rinvieni
and the brain is defrosted
bitterness of the white roof that reflects
even the shadow of the fall. Then you earn

job and buy a clitoris that

giggles while licking the hair sweating.
not love you anymore, screaming,
yet holds my head into the pillow
pubic
tight on my stomach.
I was not there and you're not blonde

the clock does not run and this was my party.
orgasm blow, the last
with you the incredible distance. The complicated

certainty who leave at the right time and right place in your
procession of memories
shopping snack. And still love you

addressed the issue of masturbation
confused as an aperitif. But it does not tell

with this cock in her hands without a future and a

rubbed on your ass, just to see if it was true
. Nubile
marry me, at least HEARTACHE
as a trick on your nightstand,
faint and in three seconds I'll tell you why
is still worthwhile to love me.

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Hookers in Parliament, the orchid
and falls on the bench
naval battles. Rimmel
old and helpless
dripping in sweat
of Ammuina intrusive.

minister opens his mouth on her knees waiting for the rider with the prostate

in flames.

and went to school to put a cross on
Calippo
matrons of Caesar.
What you see dear young
from that world
still warm and soft that you wanted to defend

in wealth and poverty.
Elections,
tale for men with hats,

games spring to avoid war and
Masaniello from Standa. Let me
a finger, a glimpse of Orange

launched in the mud to beautify the shit
overwhelmed by finding a friendly
:
could fly.