Post by account_disabled on Dec 28, 2023 16:52:21 GMT 8
Moon lit in a tarry sky streets bathed in damp reflected light voices suffused in frenetic words on the edge of silence Footsteps of cloaked figures lingering on the riverside beyond walls that still enclose clucking customers, lives spent in coarse laughter, dissonant songs, clinking of empty mugs, it's all a vortex of sounds, gestures, glances, winks and frivolous waitresses who flit elusively from table to table as if jumping gazelles of urban Africa Outside the chaos of the venue, noises, sounds and voices arrive muffled, closed in a cocoon of dormant memories of pasts remembered to be dismembered in this anti-passatist era The 3 figures cloaked in dark aerodynamic tabards stop to contemplate.
Tiberian water flow which in its steel bed flows like a body decomposing in a continuum of putrefaction in its own sarcophagus algae dead fish afloat carefree lives of florafauna traveling towards the nothing beyond the grave With a futuristic leap the aeropilot Fausto Terenzio Moschetti is on the Tiburtina skin of the parapet of the Ponte Nuovo contemplating the post-war Romanity from a height of 20 meters of electric vertigo in a voluptuous chemical dance, his beloved starlights are far away, they are up there in the interminable Special Data dark galaxy of nebulous white-sulphurous gashes In plastic pose Moschetti is ready to fantastically extol his mission towards the beyond the borders of the firmament Like silent spectators at a cinema.
Aviation Machine Gunners Marzio and Curzio Buzzi, twin veterans of 100 air battles, observe enchanted as their friend begins his nocturnal speech «O dormant city of a lost Nation in the distant time of this unborn future, a confused era of intricate thoughts of indomitable actions of unexpected flights in the polychrome extragalactic hypercosm, prepare a dormant city for immense conquests, interstellar journeys, clusters of exoplanets of us, the new cosmonauts of the Era of Steel «Anguish in the heart that kidnaps my almost extinct soul incarcerated in this now unrecognizable Italian land « Should I perhaps stay? Perish here where nothing belongs to me anymore in this nothingness to which I do not belong? In this dying.
Tiberian water flow which in its steel bed flows like a body decomposing in a continuum of putrefaction in its own sarcophagus algae dead fish afloat carefree lives of florafauna traveling towards the nothing beyond the grave With a futuristic leap the aeropilot Fausto Terenzio Moschetti is on the Tiburtina skin of the parapet of the Ponte Nuovo contemplating the post-war Romanity from a height of 20 meters of electric vertigo in a voluptuous chemical dance, his beloved starlights are far away, they are up there in the interminable Special Data dark galaxy of nebulous white-sulphurous gashes In plastic pose Moschetti is ready to fantastically extol his mission towards the beyond the borders of the firmament Like silent spectators at a cinema.
Aviation Machine Gunners Marzio and Curzio Buzzi, twin veterans of 100 air battles, observe enchanted as their friend begins his nocturnal speech «O dormant city of a lost Nation in the distant time of this unborn future, a confused era of intricate thoughts of indomitable actions of unexpected flights in the polychrome extragalactic hypercosm, prepare a dormant city for immense conquests, interstellar journeys, clusters of exoplanets of us, the new cosmonauts of the Era of Steel «Anguish in the heart that kidnaps my almost extinct soul incarcerated in this now unrecognizable Italian land « Should I perhaps stay? Perish here where nothing belongs to me anymore in this nothingness to which I do not belong? In this dying.