salò
and here we are
the two of us
sitting aside
chewing the taste of wordlessness
before us the blasé glitter of the big lake
the dances of the living dead
sipping espresso in the beach cafés
strolling at the promenades
low-flying cormorants like black messengers from hell
cypress soldiers hold death watch at the banks
yesterdays’ places crowded with ghosts from the past
the seagull and the gallinule don’t know
black and white their attire
and here we are
the two of us
sitting aside
quaffing unspoken words like sword-swallowers
heaps of cheap shoes and piles of guilt at the marketplace
rotten fruits and carcasses whirling around under the bridge
dogs walking their dead owners, a grim grin on their dog faces
the hills and the olive trees do not recognize you any more
a new curreny, new directions of one-way-streets, new construction sites
the ever increasing noise, day and night, day and night
food and wine seem to have remained the same
though they eat and drink you no more
but in the silent night the barking persists
the wind in the pines stays, the whispering of the creek,
the arrogance of the sunglasses is the same
and here we are
the two of us
sitting aside
chewing the bitter taste of remembrance
around us the never-drying-up streams of daily traffic
and of deathless communication
everybody is busy everybody is cool
functional clothings are the sables of the day
we encounter black angels, ravens and crows
at the home of the megalomaniac poet
handshakes frozen to dead gestures
kisses frozen to final goodbyes
each touch a wound, every book deals with suicide
and the vessel sails on
she finds you difficult
you think she’s right
all of them were always right, anyway
but her permeable skin and her sleepless hands
the salty taste of her lacuna and the soft cries of her voice
they tell the truth
and yes: I will change
and here we are
the two of us
sitting side by side
chewing the taste of love
embracing utopia
for Oona, sep.
