Trafika Europe 14 - Italian Piazza

Federico Federici

XXXII. heaps of garbage and rubbles scud drifting downstream, driven by calm heat-blows of an engine, boulders lining up on barren banks, blankets spread across the scrub pushing few last branches aside, sloping clearings where the moon appears as an ashen face through the fierce currents of exhaust pipes or between two plastic bags in car oil puddles edged by acid food scraps, where on all fours a dog comes up and sits beside me and licks there I recall the straight cross-point of forgetfulness, I slowly raise my dark dismally pupils and stare past the hanged on rear-view glass

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