Tag Archives: Alessandro Vitali

The Wild Conference

You gloss over the teeth of a profuse night with friends bottled up in wine drains like little mites blooming             in flesh under the neon lights when he enters plugging the quick vein on his temple – 2 centimeters resound … Continue reading

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What she said before disappearing in her own prayer

With fallen love, I scraped my knees. I couldn’t find the right hospital to heal me. I don’t care for plasters or dressings, for gauze soaked in black blood. They only mean that this is the price, such is loss. … Continue reading

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Pronoun as measure of an open space

In the tiny encyclopedia             of pronouns, you is a too reckless I. If I say you, it is to pray to myself – a somewhat clumsy way to pronounce             a whole beyond the body. If my blasphemy resounds like a … Continue reading

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Broken mysticism

Give me no more. Christ & Resurrection. Give me no more. lullaby & mainstream. Let the page. be erased. by a beetle Of new flesh. I always believe. Though I have never believed. I let my mouth. Sparkle. On behalf … Continue reading

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11:59 pm

I look at the black mouth of the hill from the crimson slit of a skylight. Inside, Dissection’s Into Infinite Obscurity whitens my thick morning walls. I smoke Winston Blue straight from a rib of the night. A random TV … Continue reading

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Post mortem of a young mother

What became of her, ten thousand meters deep in my memory?             What happened to the cursed car,            the shattered glass? What became of my grandmother stunned in the dream beyond the dream? Touch the skeleton of the rain, she says.             A … Continue reading

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Movement like assonance

I’ve read             the birds’ migration east to west while they carved the earth’s chest seen from above. Their scalpels black like eyeliners on the eyes of those who inhabit the urban commas. How will we manage to leave behind a … Continue reading

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Recycling the waste of the sacred

Like the breath that fattens in the glass of rum I just want to grow beyond me to catch the scent of an inner slaughter. As a child, I touched an impalpable skeleton in the school lockers. I took my … Continue reading

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