This poem came about after a long hesitation, the idea came to me at seven in the morning on a bus. "Turn the clock on the day tells a simple Sasso Sasso Marconi, my intention is to make a significant day as the others. I do not care to talk about seeing Spider-Man, but to tell the game of trump elderly.
arrives arrives arrives
orange coloring Sasso,
comes the yellow light to the martyrs, the six
illuminate Porrettana
orange rays knock at the gate of fresh pasta, a knock on the six
bar, ask the first coffee
this is the dawn of Marconi.
The towel bar grab a croissant,
hands it to the first customer of the day, the day is long
for Sasso Marconi,
the newspaper arrives with the mayor on the front page,
"An apple please?" the grocery bag with his glove yellow fruit,
ripping your receipt from the recorder, the bells ring
ten, a bar
around the corner you can hear the beat cards on the table by a window
feel the keyboard of a typewriter,
hear the sound of leaves,
comes the postman with a jump on the scooter is,
pulls the rope and away
in square dancing ladies that
including bread, milk, bananas carry three bags in one hand;
is the beginning of a day sassese.
At eight o'clock all were in front of the school,
rang the bell, everyone in the classroom;
cases notebooks books,
rossoblu the pen, follow the on-column multiplication is complicated,
the clock strikes two,
there is silence, all ready to detach from their use and go in front of schools, it is time for a single roar Sasso at four and a half,
all come home,
two hours after the last gate descends,
light up all the windows, but after an hour
The day ends with a mother,
in a dimly lit window,
that tucks her child.
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