ahead of us they unroll a new road

sticky stench of sweet tarmac in 38 degree heat

squinting men in hi-viz wave their flags and say Aspetta

i say About Time and Grazie

these are the new roads for the new ways

the ones direct from Truth

 

turned out it wasn’t the prince, after all

reminded cinderella who she was

or even the fairy godmother

turned out it was cinderella herself

who, one day, sick of the charade

washed the grime off her face

told the stepmother and all those uglies where to put it

woke the fuck up

bird winds the sky

rolls the sea out. then in

she brings me all her treasures

seeds, nuts, shells

a bright pink flower from the other side of the world

lays them at my feet 

i wonder : am i worthy ?

she doesn’t know what that means

doesn’t care 

brings more

says: and this 

i touched the bus

and then my eye

tell me something: 

will i die ? 

that’s what I like about

trees, fields, land etc

they pay notice (none) 

– nunca nulla nada – 

to the idea that someone owns them

mine, his, theirs etc

they’re like: que ? 

in you

i meet

for the first time

and utterly

the love

i am