Edoardo Beato / Mr. Doctor

I dread the great winged insects
And the cat-headed butterflies
Above all the fleshy wings
Of the birds
Trying to clutch me
At times I thought
I was a glass bowl
And I trembled
Fearing to be cracked
Or I felt as if
I had committed
A horrible crime
(But, which one?)
Sinking off (only)
At night

Then I was in a vast garden
And I cut the tree in the middle
Tree of the knowledge
Of good and evil
Building a vessel
That I named Narrenschiff
And I sailed through
Black waves of clotted blood
Closing my eyes

When I opened them
I was sitting on the throne
With the terror
Of an endless hiccup
Not to walk on the lines
I carry on numbering things
'Till I forget how many
Then I start again

I don't give a damn
For Caligula: just his horse!
And I'm bored by
Julius Caesar's
Thousands words
To cross the Rubicon only

The mirror! The mirror!
The mirrored life!
Same and adverse
The real and its stage
Flesh and blood puppets
In the scene of the game
Bitches to power
The army is a ballet
Empty the treasure
In everyone's hands!

The mirror! The mirror!
The mirrored life!

Sitting along in the empty pit
The laughing man
Innocent or absurd
Not as death
Living one instant
But as the planet
Diverse and deformed
Watching the earth
Beyond the mirror

Now you, just you
Staring at me from the world
Built on eternal repetitions
Behind the mirror
Crack my world from side to side
Kill me with every day
To walk together
Upon the sea

Is a state
Of mind

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