Wherecan I Get A Hernia

I'm alone.

I write all the pages of the world
read the secret code hidden in the primordial water
sing the new song of the new humanity /
sing a song without time and soak rain
face and the blood of fresh water / the clear water flowing down from the top.

And I ask myself why am I here?
in the desert surrounded by people who do not know.
Do I know these people?, "Around me and talk to me?, Whom do they speak?

I mean these poems in the voice of a bird and the claw of a tiger.
What are these poems?, What is this thing called poetry? Sort
the world and its objects
and put a number to each thing is the religion of the times.
A legion of fans walk behind objects.

Art is the opium of the people say the new pastors
art is there?, Will the people?
where are the pastors of this immense flock of sheep?

Why am I here, why here and not there?
wherever the sun tan female cat's body or beyond
/ where man invents different people every day / every day.

I'm alone I look for love.
I want to be loved.
Will I reach?
Can I achieve this solitude total write the poem? /
that aleph / that unattainable.
Or the love and the desire for sweet
market is working so all my utopia?
oranges, potatoes and apples in your hands dirty and their juices in my body and eyes
admiring my word / my shadows / smoke my castles. Why

birth unlove love and die?, What God of the vanquished?
God tell me why?

I want to be loved / the beloved / the most beloved.
What earthly paradise / revolution / super female / the great dust?
and get you in the high / higher than the heavens fatuous

where are you father?

And men / freedom / the highest ideals / location ... utopia?
What am I doing here at this point
infinitesimal cosmos trying to overcome with words too exhausted?

What about children?, What the blood that occurs as a revolution I longed for?

Man invents religions / mechanisms / speeches / phantasmagoria
why and what the poem?, Where the poetry?
"that arch stretched between two stars illusory?
where the arrow passes through the eternity of moments?

poetry: the dark / light / thought / genius locked in a bottle / everything and nothing.

will it stop one day my word suicide bullet or the murderer?
do you need the poem / poet / the invented / to stop the bullet?
justify that moment "the poem?
"world poverty / hunger / the senseless death?

I'm alone without parents or without children or without loved in the midst of the cosmic night.

I'm shaking.
going to die.

But first let me save! Before

write the poem that will stop the bullet
the infinite sadness of the man! / /

(Aldo Novelli, Before the end )