THE SMELL OF THE AIR BEFORE THE STORM

Prologue: Milano: a neo-fascist boy distributes leaflets in Lima Square. Plane-sequence along the main street. Quick montage: a man eats a sandwich at Mc Donald’s, his look is worried. A policeman lifts his truncheon to hit (it’s standing out against the blue sky). A blood stain on the asphalt. A packet of Maalox is crushed (black screen).

Fists in my pockets
Vaquity inside of me
I’m trembling with anger and I’m thinking about the sutured stitches that you bear
Bitter cigarettes
Claws on my lips
Restlessly I drink from my cut wrists
Fellows! Be careful to the coils of the blak worm crawling into the city!

The smoke escaping from the winter’s mouth
The dirty snow
The streets in town
The tracks in the mud
The bites of cold
The distant lights
The fylfots.
We are the burnt walls of a squat. We are…

The wind lashes this city
A long good-bye will mark us
The wind lashes my city
The dense rain will go down
Concrete repression signals
It’s the time to love with hearts uprooted from the chest