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Indio Gris
FUSIONED - DIRECTED - WRITTEN AND CORRESPONDED BY: MENASSA 2001 WE
DON'T KNOW HOW TO SPEAK BUT WE DO IT IN SEVERAL LANGUAGES
INDIO
GRIS, IS A PRODUCT INDIO GRIS Nº 76 YEAR II EDITORIAL I
was, in every aspect, what can be called a good Phoenician. Lost
rose of broken perfumes, I'm
not lost from loves but from tedium: To
navigate simply for navigating isn't my trade, Cesira
Cignoni recites Menassa Your
body among my letters, I
write short phrases over your skin, And
I courageously put my body before your eyes, Darling, To
hoist our own bones, that was what we did. We
whirled up into the air, as if they were multi-coloured flags, our
innards. We
had a fibre of power over time, the rest hadn't been studied yet. We
were that future altered by grandeur, by light. I
tried to love you the whole time without frontiers, without goods, without
possessions and it couldn't be. We
pulled our small accomplishments of death ceaselessly.
I
come downhearted, doctor, the world is, as many other times, at the edge of a
crisis of values. What
I need today is the sun to look at me straight in the eyes. I
need to become a friend of some dog, some policeman, of two or three
maids and, this way, I'll be giving an image of me. A wealthy man who
escapes from the noises of big cities, that's why he lives in that cave. Lights,
drugs, rock turned me mad, modern, exotic and moralist. I came to feel that I
was surrounded by murderers and faggots. Hooray,
rock!, lads, that people get through our asses while we dance and they fuck our
mother and chain our father. Come
on, lads! Hooray to rock, that everything marches well,
the orphan asylum awaits for you, go ahead that the orphan asylum opens
like an immense double door of hatred and disillusionment, to wait for you, boy,
girl, be careful with the polar bear that will eat your heart. Be careful that
the one who dances with you might be your ferocious mother. Be careful, girl,
home is not so bad, sometimes marriage is better than the asylum. Some filth is
permitted yet, more than in jail. Long live rock, doctor, long live drug, that
while we dance poison gets through our ass. -
Nobody cares to be chained anymore, I told him, we all know already that it
isn't possible to live without some little chain, but I understand that it's
alright for somebody to ask which are the chains that will become flesh and
blood in him. -
Today, I didn't understand you too well, but I happen to think that what
is our turn to live in these times is a race without obstacles, the one who
lives longer reaches the farthest, that's all. -
Each one will get the hatred he has practised, I told him. -
Ah, in that sense I'm safe because I was the worst, the one who never
obeyed.
I'm a woman in love without destiny. My lover is cruel. He makes me
think that he's making love with other women and I turn mad. Those
afternoons, when his odours remind me of my body, that's to say, other
woman's body
in his odours, I become frantic, I seek for an ambush to undress
him and then, I smell him bit by bit. While I smell him, my tongue slips,
without surprise, through the most abject places of his body; when at last
I enter the deep nostrils of his aquiline nose with my tongue, he tells
me, like shouting, like murmuring: Reach
my brain, baby!, reach my brain. Take a chance and mix the grace of the
winds with my famous motor cells, let your tongue be the beastly flesh
that decides to reach my brain. Take
a chance with pain, which means to submit all the breeze at dawn. Take
a chance with pain, which means to put on the flesh some words. Words like
steels, words like embers, blast furnaces eating life. True
words for the flesh, words like flesh.
1 A
hope will kill us. To suppress hopes makes life longer. 2 I
don't have to make it difficult, I have to make it possible and there I'll
go through the roads of politics. 3 An
account, my love, is just an account. You don't have to take into account
an account. 4 Gambling
is equivalent to a poor lover supported as if she were rich. 5 To
use money doesn't exactly mean to spend it. 6 Man
is dislocated in his being. LETTER
FROM THE EDITOR I
calmly throw myself into infinite pages, infinite times and no one will
come to ask me how I got what I have because it will be already said. Today
I feel like saying it: I feel glorious. When 30 or 40 years go by, I'll
recall these moments with joy. There I'll say for today: it was there
where my writing changed. To
reach the confines of universe from here, sitting on a chair. I
easily recall a child's chant: We
have a goal keeper Up
to the confines of heaven. INDIO GRIS THIS IS ADVERTISING
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