last moon

Sunday, December 5, 2010

In a middle-class drama




















In a middle-class drama

I would like to slice on pieces my tie
And throw them on your inapprehensible person

I would like to eat
Using my hands at your table
Laughing in a natural way

I wish  I could not  hear 
Clanging my chains
When I move on slowly

You also know it
But you don’t want to  listen to them
‘cause they are your own chains too!

So we spend our lives
playing a drama
somebody else has written
just for ourselves.

Cagliari, 1975

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