Thinking of a poem to make people upset
full of blasphemy
an all Italian specialty
to be exported into refrigerated vaults
inside chinese trucks that, in unending queues
defying strikes, robbery and zombies' attacks
go on between psychological U-turns
friendships broken even before starting
and canyons well deep into Earth's burns,
supplying into every home of this world
a Jesus to be kept in the fridge as a consumer good
along with the Mother Goddess, ready to be defrosted in urgent cases
to be sliced still hard and cold, for spiritual snacks
microwaved and put in between two pages of The Capital
or The Tao of Physics…
Well dressed of course
with a goddamned screamed so high.

Real de Catorce, 8th of December 2013
Rodolfo de Matteis