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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.