Electricity gone.
All the corners are folded in raw darkness.
Masterbation done three times…now I am a soldier without weapons.
There’s no point staying inside…I have started the engine of my car…
Rattling indie music from the music player,
I am driving to bring back the cold obscurity rather than this burning one.
I am too wasted to tell whether it’s me who is going or the horizons that’s coming to me,
wheels rolling… wheels strolling… wheels mocking,
wheels doing.
There’s a highland in front of my metallic motion,
I can a moose crossing the road with blue eyes and sharp legs…she must have heard the greatest songs of untouched nights.
I am returning home…she has made me do it,
the bridge towards the evolvement has always been carried through such ordinary times.
You can be a poet by writing some lines…but to be a animal you have to breathe a lot of gasoline and see a lot of lost seasons.
I have returned… electricity still gone,
but I am a better man now…the car, the unknowing and passing outside…the long horns of highland and lastly these abhorred tunes have made a radioactive skeleton out of me.
And I am loving every bit of it.

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Photograph: Fiore Rosso.