July 26, 2005
Pozza.
overflight and I say that are on the ground, face in the pool
stale water that transpires in hesitation. While
hear appeals
and carousing in celebration
filthy
swallow mouthfuls of moist clay.
m'adagio debased to the bottom of
rouged and mud
m'incupisce
the heavens and the earth opens up to her belly.
crumbs of sand, deep-house
m'accogli that forgetful.
Manilo Busalacchi
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