Disgust

I'm a hunter
born to kill
nerves of steel
quick as a ferret.
With my scoop
I send, in the shit-eater-paradise,
every fly ovest from Lambro river.

I open a beer...
play for a while with the cap
and crush it in my hands.
Bended red cap: lips with teeth.

Flies buzz around me,
making me think about vultures.

I grow old and I finished
becoming more wise.

Always more fat, more slow,
more indifferent.

The flame of enthusiasm falters,
like fire in the rain,

and I keep on telling myself: not today!

Do not call me, do not talk to me,
do not ask me no shit!

Tomorrow.
Tomorrow I will say everything,
I'll be sincere,
face the thruth...
Tomorrow.

--B-A-R-A-B-B-A--D-A--S-E-R-E-G-N-O--

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