Il Tempo

If before any thing there was time
with rugged sleeves caves of mourning
one sole embrace of love dread
then it became infected with cruelty for all.
Chronos running an anthropomorphous world
ordered the wind the gale the sun
promised the smiling parasites teeth split by din
invited the fresh zones of always
to the ball under the alluvion: the illusion
He marked hearts in couples and round apples
for the arms on the dawning balcony
like the hour or oratorio its the same.
Meanwhile cardio or apple with the leftovers
coloured by crumbling thighs
thieve nymph cheeks in the ravine.
Time abandons you in order to exist
it defends itself within the delivery of women
that look at clocks like beacons saints
heated by warmed soap slowly trickle from the altars.
Therefor Waiting is the last warrior
sumptuous and invincible revolution
sows the light with play.

November 1994