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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