From poiein :
Whoever is indifferent to beauty, elegance, intelligence, and affection he is capable of a cat, as one who is poor, walking in the summer for a country road is blind and deaf to the flowers to the birdsong and the hum of insects (E. Hamilton).
We move like cats, we proceed "with magical movements" in these texts in search of an experience or a revelation. Proper names and numbers refer to a past. As if the youth was a language that slowly becomes far more intelligible as for the benefit of an inner transformation. As if the items to be deaf and dumb begin to return to close, confident. Often overlook the treasures of childhood and adolescence and then when it's too late, we are suddenly ready to open the casket of memory. What comes out of the "mailboxes" is an apparent disorder that can not be governed by the laws of physics and that this appears to be imprisoned by the laws, looser, the analogy (in the senses and soul "). So, one memory, a desire, a dream may seem innocent and close, even family (among the "everyday things") but could be suddenly more and more enigmatic ("secret emails"). Of a magical darkness is waiting a future enjoyment, the inexperience of life that would enjoy infinite, the unlimited life. Game and mourning, love and desire for something new. It seeks a harmony of opposites, we reason by degrees. We measure love, happiness. Everything is or could be the last clue, a "harbinger of good fortune," the ingredient of a "spell". The sea, just "a basic trait, a wheat field, the starry sky, the computer table are sites of a fragmented space but still be reconstructed as a hologram because the individual fragments still retain the necessary information to reconstruct a look together or so it seems (From "adolescence / back and that is infinitely / in the eyes of all cats in the world"). There is always a mirror, eye to eye. Even then, watching the cats, their eyes, we discover who we are.
John Catalano
Alessia Gatti and
Prologue
Wheatfield with orange flowers
: sprouted
on the branches of waking up is
Red with magical movements
to drink in the tub
the Villa Grove
in front of 'Albergo
angels: there Alessia
rosavestita between things ever
and makes a scratch in Red:
nature to continue
nell'adornata night away
of comets
omen of luck.
1
Hours
spell in the eyes of Apple to weave joy in the eyes of
Alessia, blue
most elementary
that stretch of sea, eyes and innocent girl
near c ' The sea is
and April 1
salt in the senses and soul:
find peace only on the rocks, says Alessia
close to John and the boys play the shooting gallery
black comes along and grow
life in a strawberry seedling on the sills of
'adolescence
that comes back and is infinitely
in the eyes of all cats in the world.
2
Gradually moonless night between the tiles
inazzurrare in the sea of \u200b\u200bendless joy
with the mailboxes and the rises among
secret
to receive mail with a heart on the table
computer rooms where the cat
Red, greeted by the smile of Alessia
and immense happiness in April
of harmony and degrees of 'love
going well.
3
Red gradually along the memories of the mind
Alessia
spoaragazza
happy with the child at age 16, Alessia rosavestita
for life to jut out into new things
: mornings before
happiness, the most terse
cleansed from the seed of the frost.
Raffaele Piazza
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