E Adesso La Pubblicità

You behind a glass look outside
along the sparkle of the sidewalks
and the people have dissolved into the evening...
Your mother average height average dreams
who blinks like a camel
and hasn't resigned nor hopes...
A bush of thorns your brother
thinking on the nails of his fingers
puffed up with a boiled air...
Your father hands of a lifelong worker
laughs and his face cracks
paled by the TV...
You in a hurry to live something
and everything is already a smooth memory
and now the advertisement...

You and your bottled desires
eyes like keyholes
and a numb anxiety under white snow...
Your father always waits for some ship
tightrope walker on the thread of the past
dines with a tired steak...
Your brother is a broken record player
a river of thoughts on the run
reflects in a spoon and makes a crooked mouth...
Your mother darns some wrinkle
and a question of sweetness
that she brings to the table and leaves...
You hidden in a bitterness
to pretend that the world is a nice place
and now the advertisement...

But what day is every day
and one evening every evening
and this evening like the others
sits next to you
and there's nothing that comes back
no joy and no matchstick
to set fire to everything...
You in that little bird's spine
that bends and shows the worries
of your tomorrows and your few years...
Your father rubs his jaws
like breaded in his beard
a cigarette between his teeth and he talks around...
Your mother wakes up abruptly and shakes
all the dust of a day
without people and news...
Your stupid brother who pushes
your heart overturned like empty pockets
and now the advertisement...

Today is almost a century of boredom
and what to do tomorrow and after
and then in the next twenty years
children of hopes
for a moment of joy
in the city of antennas and sky
and the gray lights of the rooms...
And the night falls like a curtain
to dim the eyes and the TVs
and you behind a glass look outside...