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Let me move from there that I peed a gargoyle on the shoulder.


Too much of it.


rainy afternoon of round pebbles on flat shoes and ran through puddles. Jeans, too many cigarettes, knees, meat heavy, the night darkens.
immense room for a retrospective climate Soviet.
His phrases like doves of hope that come Christmas. Too late, too soon, but not required.

And we're on a sofa to tell us that words can not sing, still like the endless moments at traffic lights.

We are already collecting dust. Thought

side honest. In the car I heard tarnishes the Depeche Mode.

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Repent! That's what I am talking about! Addicted to you

My absenteeism has broken all records ever seen in the last five years.

are inexcusably inexcusable.

But there is consolation in the fact that I was not to scratch at all. Not a
pruritino satisfied. Manco
a scratching a flea bite. I made seven

removals, drove 3000 km, earned a reputation as a truck driver of the year. I had bronchitis, I is passed, then is returned, I found a penknife that I like so much that I brought with me in Ukraine, but now is in Croatia to be searched at the border (even in mudande). I decided to return to Italy, but I'm thinking of going three months in South Africa, but perhaps `I do not know, however I will go and stay in Modena` `` them a little bit just to take a bit of fog in the Po valley.

are now in Lviv where I corsette in the woods and study the Ukrainian in a thousand Germans. The
that it is not so bad '.

So, cheeeeers!

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Sunday with bronchitis girls greens are a breeze with the principles orange. They see who wins. They see who loses face, and who put it there. Are at risk. We bet the buttons.
Sunday going through the wind and we're as cold as ice melted like puppets to look out the window, the light that dazzles and leaves no snapshots. We
with skinned knees and socks stellate. You faceless, silent carriers of bears. Accessibility
down this slope of the race course like ants.

What thoughts do you fools, Temperino.
Beautiful as you are, you go to think? I look
thought I heard a voice, and that's enough of this I am grateful. Sunday
me gifts.

And twirl will not be Only discs of dough, but words and pollen, leaves of Hibiscus and earrings of ivory, laughter and beautiful things you write, rollers, brushes, antibiotics and Enel bills.
Do you believe in me. I'm going gill. Mica joke.

tomorrow then who knows, but today is Sunday and for a time in a long smile really.

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So was the word

Today I think that by dint of delight you end up being amateurs.

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TeleAfonia

not speak for three days.
The last thing I said was buonanotteevaffanculo.

let's go where we do not ask when or where.
let's go where there will be no one else.

Around me assholes and lunatics.

am very tired of being misunderstood.
complicate my proverbial ingarbugliatezza, I seem to have something to do for most of the time unconscious with chronic self honorary judges, adults prenatal regression to a vegetative state. Apart from those who

months does nothing but rip off your balls with rudeness and claims, including the unexpected joy you give to the crazy talk with no meaning, foundations, fine.

I think all boys around me that I absolutely need someone to love, and looks a little 'guess who? their own!
Besides that I have to do in life apart from their love?
pity then that any request to "pass me the salt?" to "feel tomorrow?" be accepted as an irrevocable condemnation to the guillotine, a threat to their own freedom of males.

What remains for me at this point if you do not do some good spring cleaning?

Now I get the cat and I'm leaving to play Trump, here's what I do!

go where there is neither light nor fog with my silent voice.

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Breakfast at Tiffany's - or a romantic dream of fucking

There was a time when someone would say, fine words. Today

mirrors look empty.
face with which I woke up long smile of false teeth. Listening to voices Canterine barking on the phone. I'm surprised my enormous sunglasses.

Then I wonder how I ever be buried in this province Hibiscus yellowing to eat lentils and toothbrushes.

For four long months I've been patient, as befits those who want to find a way. I took notes on sterile gauze, collected leaves, read the instructions on all bottles of shampoo, I painted the walls bright colors to not to attract attention, I even pretended not to.

Now what? What else is there? Sorry if I can not throw away the tea bags.
Sorry if I do not collect more stamps to dispel the anxiety disorder. Sorry if I've broken my balls.

So there is enough for everyone. A ça suffit for all occasions. A mavaffanculo for the highest bidders.

So I got a cat and I named as my grandfather died.
least keeps me company and do not owe me money.

So I carefully folded the last pair of socks and I've planted basil in, what your mother wanted for himself.

But it is sad to wake up with the sun in my eyes and think that all this waiting and collecting four-leaf clovers in the books did not help anything at all, who walk like an offended any Bovary to be dramatized in the sky like a lump of dung.

But I forgive you, because I do that are much, much better than you.

Have a good trip you flavor enhancers, succellatori candy rhubarb, rust and antifreeze, you past loves and vegetable soups, which will accompany the road.

As much as possible away from me.

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SOME FEEL THE DANCE


ao Grove Festival

The antra evening Grove
them or me I know how to bang a frog
the party of "we dens "there stamens
us all.

'Na de ntrippata facioli
hill pork rinds, the zzampetti,
' na chop and du 'potatoes, red wine and
Bruschetti.

This is' na serious matter!
a policy is de pennoi

company is in the inn with his comrades

Unity Day in July 1997
-------------------- --------------


The Berlin Wall

This night your soul is stretched
whirlwind of sensations
difficult breathing, anxiety
salt.

The sun is reborn ever east
while you sleep and do not see.

Morning restless dreams
awakens my body still tired, sun
ch 'is born brilliant
is covered with thick haze.

November 10, 1989 ----------------------------------


Love and Hate

If you say you hate me
means that you love me.
hate indifference love your hate


that tomorrow will be a new love.


August 18, 1989 ----------------------------------



Wind

At night I walked by your window
as a cool breeze.
A chill has you covered
you tried to sleep my heat on your side.
I came from your dreams at dawn
that the memory will not fade away.

July 25, 1989 ----------------------------------

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POLICY

course of doing politics These days it is against the current. All hail Beppe Grillo, say horns and African politicians and institutions, populism and indifference are becoming more widespread and take the place of idealism and altruism of years ago. Whole classes of society who identified with the values \u200b\u200bof the left are broken, they have more references and the work that identified the social category ......... is also fragmented and reduced to a series of experiences and opportunities. But how can you step aside when the abuse, injustice, selfishness, are the true inspiration of a false liberalism? We resist , still engaged in an effort to awaken our country and the people who attend the public spirit of coexistence, and respect for diversity and a desire to respect this Earth that is hosting us for another few years.

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Dancing mean ....

let our body receives the vibrations of sound,
follow the rhythm of the drums.
I Caribbean dances to better interpret
fusion of black and white culture.

Dancing is stress release,
do gymnastics and have fun.

So! ..
what are you waiting to join the Salseros?

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Atonement

Another luggage, a suitcase, a box.

Should I make a lot more crazy.

We wanderers on odd days, always a sigh what is right, a curse that does not add up or does not fit in a pocket skinny. Parto in

absurdity of blaming someone who wants me there in a hurry and those who at all costs would keep me with him.

Another train, another journey and another two more tomorrow and say Ave Maria, which will not hurt.

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Може все не так ... - Maybe everything else is

А за вiкном майже весна ...

Змiнює все моє майбутнє,
Моє майбутнє the моє життя.

(And the window is already spring ...

Change all my future,

my future and my life)



I think she was here. A search
who knows what.
Maybe my words about her, in un'idioma unknown.
Maybe someone reads, mixes letters in his mouth like blueberries salaries in full. This
possession that you can not feed.

For days his voice was chasing. If I hear
lights.
says "Maniunia, yak ty? Sho ty?".
says I miss you, I think of you, I want you here for a coffee, I watered the plants, want to come to Kiev to get you? My

, highly implausible.
"You know I do not want anything, you know I do not want anything."

(Stay in your place where you are, with your voices and sieves until you learn to lie as it should).

I was worth a gamble, but this morning listening to scroll through the river I dreamed of a ladder to climb in the spring and from there to a lawn with ivy or the sea.

And if the sea will be there then.

Sea and a Dance in the spring.

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So what can I do with cheap honesty?

The days come and go.

I hate people who embrace lean when I cock my hips.

I hate when he tells me about her, as if he did not understand that I do not want to know, I do not want to talk about it, that not even want to imagine. What

strobe heads of other worlds. Who do you think
healed, who do you think is available, who do you believe in love and all who seek to bring home the gold fish from the fishing hook with the swans.

I have no doubt that the fish wrapped roll with laughter in a room full of shit self-produced oxygen and chewed.

I have trouble falling asleep without thinking that tomorrow I will be still here, still there, still with me somewhere else and all that comes with me, day by day, turn around, to prick.

the green apples are in Italy, I buy at the supermarket Tam Tam for 15 and UAH 70 kopeks when I feel like crying. I like to cut them into thin slices. With the same procedure. I know only one way to cut a green apple.

this morning I woke to the sound of the alarm clock and I thought that there are green apples in Italy, have sent all the Tam Tam in Italy so I do not console me and be ordered to never cry in front of a computer without the words then it gets dirty and squirts.

If I had a son that I had his eyes and the same way that he has to fear. I wish it were capable of so much power, but with a heart much bigger, as big as what I put on the fireplace to dry.

If I had a son that I had hands big enough to crack nuts without the help of the nutcrackers.

If I were a dog I'd rather encounter the night, waving a paw and come back to nest without asking me questions.

Another day goes on, one less day here, one more than elsewhere.
crying And I'll become old with the mouth downwards, and even a flower in her hair to dry.

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January 1 - Guarantee of cretinism



at home by her mother.

nostalgically moments gazing idiots, the result of a hangover at least fifteen era. Maybe I'd stay at home almost
, including mothers, needy cats and slobbering and all that remains of the former friends.

bad my place is no longer here, such as fog engulfs the thresher.
there waiting for me in the snow.

So be it.

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OUR ANIMALS

At home we are eight: I Franco, Tania my soul mate, our 4 dogs and 2 cats. When we move away from home for a few days everything gets complicated, we need to find caregivers for our animals and if the summer in our garden ..... Despite this at least once a year we treat ourselves to a trip to see the wonders of this world.

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So, today as yesterday.
So tomorrow is today.

A look inside inert arms that wrap up the pieces.
which tighten around my awkward tentacles.
I had strange dreams toxic powder, money and spy bugs.

I woke up at six in an intermittent light pink boudoir I like being in a story by William Gibson.
swallow drops for non-dormant reviving odors.

I'm not awake yet.
I am not prepared ever.

will be Sunday, and then Christmas and then another funeral and I'll always be here smiling from behind a crooked mirror.

Like an old movie from masturbation, to send in mind for times when the imagination is scarce.

Another endless new year to live next to me.