Italy is falling  and I’m riding it upside down
archives \ about / contact \ code / le penne altrui
tags homage
December 22nd 2006 "things suck here." Homage to Dennis C. in a versified collage of his own p.s. words* >

Things suck here, but the future is the future for a reason.
The laptop that I was using growing so
mysteriously sludgy that I can't use it
though my car is relatively on its wheels again, which is something
it's quite possible I'll miss a question or something
Remember that you need to get your porn

Yury went to school. I wrote some and did the blog.
no real news on the visa problem.

LA has become a difficult place, but I would never
wear a serial killer t-shirt--

I'm hunting and pecking, the heating in my apartment is broken
so I'm dressed for the Arctic
and huddled
next to a very inadequate space heater.
But whatever. Once a year and all that.

There's a screening ere long, and I'm going.

* dennis c.'s p.s. words can be read on his blog

it was one of the poems ico wrote / made with , , / licensed and printable / 1 comment so far »

January 16th 2006 Poetry: Italy, thirteen saved strophes from a personal Ginsbergish attemp >

on the eve of the fifty anniversary I only remembered of, of Allen Ginsberg's poem 'America', a lousy roughed out homage

condo1.jpg

Italy I won't apologize for writing you in english since italian is not serious enough for you,
not that i want to be serious about it,

but i want you to take me seriously, how about that

Italy sixty five euros January 17, 2006,
the buds are on the orchid branches, sparrows and blackbirds flock to my terrace for our seeds,
every neighbour hates his neighbour,

and i don't really want to get out, or make you out

Italy it's been months without rain, every sponge is dry and the dust embroiders the pargets

Italy, yes i may be imitating Ginsberg right now, what do you care anyway. It's not the anniversary of his death, only of his verse,

condo2.jpg

   and your newspapers have other asses to disclose,
so get on with that, Italy, whip up your crew of drudging pros, tell 'em the few times i mistook for serious their excuses of jobs,

Italy i used to find you attractive.
Italy all the bad signs are here now.
Like the fact that i, who could have been the most talented of all, dropped it all not as withdrawal,
more like carving up a window off in the cave,
and pulled it off

friends and foes tumbled down at your altar and left,

Italy, I gave back the enviable all-inclusive occupation with mafia support, PhD in mafia,
time wasted behind the magic awning of the rewarding crime you had prepared for me,

you called it 'a fine job', no thanks,

condo3.jpg

Italy, i won't use the clouds you had picked for me, as the briefings, your cool web design, ticket restaurants, convenient politcal oral sex,
as the envy, as there's nothing I can do for the trees, pilot projects, sex in the office,
as the teams, temporary job, the clubs, as all the frustrated faces who love to repeat 'I don't need this in my life right now',

may this phrase be cursed forver

Italy will you just try to listen for once. Get off the chat line for a while, even if that makes you less friendly or sexy, I lost contact with you because i don't have a TV,

   on the other hand, TV was eating my dreams away, you called from the grave, what can I do to make it up to you? Won't you tell me of the shows I missed? Are the oligarchs really smiling at me?

'cause praetorians aren't

condo4.jpg

Italy, of course i don't have any answers, not even advices, and i don't really care for my friends, i am writing you this poem only to have a little talk,

      how about that

Oh Italy, now that you're electoral again i wish the word communism was banned from your vocabulary forever, as the word family, both your best lies

Italy bad signs are here, but you keep asking for the good ones, and I happen to know two of them,

you're senile, your children are sterile,

hope you enjoyed the rhyme, how about that

it was one of the italian things and one of the poems ico wrote / made with , / licensed and printable / 2 comments so far >

tags homage

the milanese lamp post
I have a brain for everything
-- Emanuel Carnevali

/ recent comments
/ most read (or spammed)


/ 15 feathers (read all)
  • Heard the alarm clock screaming with pain, / Couldn't find myself so I went back to sleep again / So fill my ears with silver / Stick my legs in plaster / Tell me lies about Vietnam. // taken from the swiss lounge: adrian mitchell

  • What a pathetic group! What a lack of humanity and true pain! They were real and therefore unbelievable. No one could ever use them for the scene of a novel or a descriptive backdrop. They went by like rubbish in a river, in the river of life, and to see them go by made me sick to my stomach and profoundly sleepy. / taken from Dispatches from Zembla: "Those who suffer, suffer alone"

  • The purpose of art is to impart the sensation of things as they are perceived and not as they are known. The technique of art is to make objects ‘unfamiliar’, to make forms difficult, to increase the difficulty and length of perception because the process of perception is an aesthetic end in itself and must be prolonged. Art is a way of experiencing the artfulness of an object; the object is not important." / taken from Shklovsky, "Art as Technique" via MUSINGS ON HANDKE’S PROSE

  • Furthermore, as anybody who recently has endured the indignity of a traffic stop can attest, police in most jurisdictions routinely inquire as to whether there are weapons in the car. (In my most recent traffic stop, the officer asked, “Are there any weapons in your car I need to know about?” “No, none that you need to know about,” was my immediate response.) / taken from Pro Libertate: "Question 46," Revisited

  • According to researchers at Oxford University, playing the popular, classic puzzle game Tetris after a traumatic experience could significantly reduce emotional scars. / taken from Health: Tetris Wipes Out Bad Memories, Say Scientists

  • In the seventh grade I moved the family typewriter into my bedroom to begin work on my screenplay. It was a very moving romantic comedy intended to feature a monkey, Simon LeBon of Duran Duran and the well-known actress Bess Armstrong whom I’d seen in my favorite movie of the 6th grade, High Road to China. / taken from 2007 Things «

  • Most people, I would imagine, would simply drive on. She did not; she stopped the bus, followed me half a block up the street, and demanded to know why I’d been taking pictures of her, and insisted that I erase them. She was firm; I was surprised and incoherent. But after a moment of confusion, I managed to show her that I had not, as it happened, managed to catch her on film, showing her most of my pictures in the process. At first she was hostile, an avenging angel, but she relaxed as we went through my digital roll, huddling over the tiny light of my view-finder on a dark empty street. / taken from zunguzungu

  • Still, the clothes are fantastic. / taken from sit down man, you're a bloody tragedy: A trial

  • He’s thin and tall and you can see that his hands have been working for a long time. He’s chopping the thick mean ice in front of the church. “That’s tough work today,” I say. He stops and looks up, leaning on the long stick of the icebreaker. “Yes it is. But lookin’ at you,” he says, “I got me some new energy.” / taken from on the corner « Municipal Archive

  • The endgame will culminate in the creation of an Eretz Israel by which time the Palestinian entity will be the substance of myth, nurtured only in poetry and song, some tears and some faded old maps. There are not even many Mahmoud Darwish' around to write about this pain. The fountains of sadness are sprouting blood, the insane cries for help are falling on deaf ears, at this time poetry and Literature seem superfluous, including my naive post. / taken from THOUGHTS OF XANADU: What the Zionists want

  • dam's broke, / head's a / waterfall. / taken from 3quarksdaily

  • Ahmedou Ould-Abdallah, the UN envoy to Somalia, tells me: "Somebody is dumping nuclear material here. There is also lead, and heavy metals such as cadmium and mercury – you name it." Much of it can be traced back to European hospitals and factories, who seem to be passing it on to the Italian mafia to "dispose" of cheaply. When I asked Mr Ould-Abdallah what European governments were doing about it, he said with a sigh: "Nothing. There has been no clean-up, no compensation, and no prevention." / taken from Johann Hari: You are being lied to about pirates - Johann Hari, Commentators - The Independent

  • The summer after Hearst's trial, Star Wars was released and immediately became a pop sensation. America now preferred its captives to be self-willed self-rescuers. Rambo would soon grace movie screens; Ronald Reagan would soon be president. And Patty Hearst would go to jail, a harbinger of our new age of "personal responsibility." What was a captive supposed to do? The jury decided: she was supposed to just say no. / taken from That Girl: The Captivity and Restoration of Patty Hearst (Page 2)

  • W.'s always admired my whining, 'like a sad chimp, at the limits of its intelligence', but my depression took me beyond that, didn't it? You were silent for once, W. says. I didn't ring him, or respond to emails ... No chatter from me: that's when he knew things were really bad, says W. / taken from Spurious

  • An idea has only to be something you have not thought of before to take over the mind, and all afternoon I kept hearing in my mind snatches of books which might exist in three or four hundred years. / taken from Helen DeWitt, The Last Samurai, from THE CHAGALL POSITION: Relations of Notes

Italy is falling is an italian blog in english language / not entirely irresponsible / it was born on the first of july 2005 / it is based on wordpress / it is ad-free / it resisted 52,370 spamming attempts / template, graphics and content are © italyisfalling.com 2009 according to this creative commons license / all is made with ~love