where were you at the beginning of the sixth mass extinction? - n. 2

early morning
suburbs of the universe,
lit by the first ray of Sun,
movements
Always alike always the same
  they roll like dices on a marked  trail

in your mouth the dry and bitter taste of coffee

hands are wet
  water drops shining like pearls
but in moments, too few,
they will vanish in the Summer heat

suburbs of the universe
early morning
small gestures of a short daily breath
they cut the air

everything might
and nothing has to happen
while under this grey suburban sky we frantically are
resigned to the freedom of singing
minimal and marginal details,
obstinately prisoners of an infinite present
bought in instalmentes at the end of the season sales

but tell me,
  where were you at the beginning of the sixth mass extinction?


Marco Bo