Trigger Warning
Pasta al sugo to cure the spirit
to paint the walls, to drag your smile
out of the shadow, when dispersed
to revamp the good ol’ glory
I never got to undress
it stayed hallucinated, imagined, diabolical
I lived the 80’s through my uncle’s clothes
his curly hope, ramping joie de vivre
his tricks to be so superlative
the imaginative speed
of life passing by, dying so young
plagued by the sense of novelty
being a power bottom in the wrong decade
an eternal plain-cloths poet