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IN MILAN AT LAMBRATE

Writer's picture: Mic WallstoneMic Wallstone


In Milan, a few stops from the central station, a few steps from Lambrate

some Mistresses fight to become Miss Universe,

there are those who are put on a throne, there are those who are put on a cross

The children of Rafah have had their lives turned upside down

a man makes his heart stop like when a nut is cracked open.


I saw Sara, strong and imposing,

to get sick from selling off one's pleasure to the highest bidder,

I saw it blow in the wind the horizon that divides

personal consent from complacency

I saw her teeter on the crests of her intimacy,

I saw her in captivity lost in the streets of others,

I saw Sara, scornful and imposing,

from the corner of the tip of the heel in a cellar I saw a little girl lying.


The children of Rafah have had their lives turned upside down

a man makes his heart stop like when you crack a nut

there are those who are put on a throne, there are those who are put on a cross

and in Milan, a few stops from the central station, a few steps from Lambrate

some Mistresses fight to become Miss Universe.


Sex and war are the Earth's lot,

they look alike, they have always been the carcasses of a black market,

blacker than night, blacker than death.


Merry Christmas








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