Antropophagus

At the station there's a nice sun like in other places.
My sweetest love.
There's a worm in the coffee.
As punishment, there's the hamburger.
We push ourselves. We have beards.
We have faith. We have spits.
We have holes in our vests. We're camped on the flowerbed.
The dead dove flies. There's a brawl.
Bottles smashed in faces. Empty to waste.
We watch the trains and the airplanes.
Russians and Lithuanians.
We exchange Peroni and a bit of canned tuna.
We have sushi. We have wine.
We break bread and the dog's back.
There is no sushi. No Corso Como. We like the Man.
There's no union.
There has never been anyone who loved me as much as this night.
I'm dying. I'm hungry, my love. The government says hell is over now.
And I married you. Here. Among the black rats and the flowers.
I kissed your skull.
At the station there's a nice nothing like in other possible worlds.
For me, for you, for whoever else will come.
So we have lunch and then we pee against the walls of Milan.
Against the wind we get married. Today we fly.
Today we go. We tear our children to pieces.
And we wrap some leftovers in a newspaper.
Sooner or later we'll need it. We love the Man and his flavor.
The gentlemen and the ladies. Their eternal spinning.
Like lamb in kebab. We have sushi. We have wine.
We break bread. The dog's back. There is no sushi.
No Corso Como. We like the Man. There's no union.
There has never been anyone who loved me as much as this night.
I'm dying. I'm hungry, my love.
The government says hell is over now.
And I married you.
Here. Among the black rats and the flowers.
I ate your skull.