Wednesday, April 22, 2009


How do we start writing, surely it must be extremely
easy. It’s been a while that I’m sitting in front
of this paper that keeps staring at me blankly,
my fingers are fidgeting with the pen that does
not want to move and my brains says
“leave and come back later on when you
are calmer and more serene”.
Then I will change tactics since I am
determined to write something, I turn on that
old radio sitting in a corner always on the
same channel of soft and melodious music,
my type of music, the music of my youth
when I would stand and just dance around
the room for hours and hours with only
the old cat cleaning himself under the table
and resting is paws on a rubber mouse to
see my wild and frenetic dance up to the
moment I would just plop down from exhaustion
and heat but still the old radio would keep
on mumbling those old tunes accompanied by
accordions, mandolins or violins ….
Violino zigano suoni sempre più piano
solo per me, cosi vagherò al tuo ritmo
sfrenato finche ne abbia forza, si suoni
sempre più piano solo ed unicamente
solo per me.

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