“Visioni devastatrici” by Tom Porta: the Velasca Tower, Milan
I grew wild
and abjuring bourgeois moralisms.
I hear doctors who say to wash hands
I see many idiots to pee
on the guardrail without any worry.
On the train no one looks at me for
everyone dreams somewhere on the web.
I’m dumbfounded and wonder
what did happen
to the artists and the common saints
born among the poor people?
And the navigators?
Where are you,
what about your nice works,
Where are now you, Italians?
I mourn our ancient culture
and the old and sharp rules
and the duty
and the intelligence too.
When it was that also the time died?
May, 31st 2016