Photo by Tina M oducts (my beloved Tinisima ...)
We were tired because of the feathers keep
labels
of trash from third
hopefully last
republic media.
We c'infrangemmo
Let us indeed the mighty
and disarmed at the sound of the bells of Girgenti
or Caminate Rocca.
shadow of aberrant mode
obtuse and compliance
dell'anticonformismo
and its plastirivolte.
So predictable and blasphemous
to regret the savory
anarchy of the people and the holy ignorance
grandmothers.
we described
with lavish artistry
the bell'andare
for what seemed forever
and believe in
to take off - with a view a goal? -
aphasic our hope.
Just born.
We aborted
room gestation
the possessive pronoun
the first, third
people
the AIS imposture of history.
Our name you
there spitting
and you can easily
as to who is right
and shoot into an alibi
a form coiffed
of which traces remain.
We were tired because of the impotence of teachers
stuttering
bulimic
acquiescence to the verb of existence.
I am not who I was.
We are not.
Current of former friends
is pitiful
plethora of disheartened souls
looking barren
and hysterical
someone
or at least something.
Our blood
seed has been sown in coitus
uncertain
shadow of progress
long continuance online
download happiness
free
- release, please! -
that all the cheap
no fruit
immune
impunity
enjoy it!
Our seed
blood has been shed
for us and for all
anything in forgiveness
cloned nth
impotence
joyfully
imploded in the cacophony nonsense
whole existence.
But we grew tired
because of useless feathers
ever became wings.
and scratching
twitter coy
in cubicule comfortable
of these hives
ergonomic spaces of virtual worlds.
taught the children - pathetic pride -
doubting the swamp
and morchiosa
fathers
the silent revolt and defeat
mothers.
A.
Songwriter 
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