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Preaching to the nose-wrinkling









"You are right, poetry does not need anything at all" - Dacia Maraini



You are right! Fire
their silence bizarre
their pants filthy
notebooks full of gold,
their pea soup, with their many wives

fire
rabbis naked crying "mother" *
Yes, that buzz
the slurp their spirits

their exotic names so exotic cirrhosis.
What a scandal,
always pledge pride

for a clean shirt and a taxi to the no where.
You are right, impotence

thrown here and there at night,
utero-phobic ties with France,
attached to a phone booth
shouting angry illogical.
You are right,
the night is for sleeping, otherwise
obese
circles as sneezing Kafka
you hang on the soul: and you can not drag

burdened by the "long poem" **
without peel the white skin.
You are right, that paranoia
these signorpoeti °
we are good to us all
two bottles, three planets, zero love
and barrel off the premises. What these trivial
signorpoeti,
you're right!





Ginberg * reference to Allen and his pearl-elegy Kaddish
** reference to one of the usual maximum of Alice B. Toklas, saying: "The poem is too long, life is too short" ambiguous
° Reference I'm 25 years of poetry held in the beautiful, mad poet, Gregory Corso






(Image from the blog La rumba Saraghina)