Thank You For Hosting A Wedding

Madurai

The beat of dishes and accompanying hands frightened the girl
What flies over the crowd
Barefoot
on that tightrope between the Middle Ages and the day after West
In the chaos of anarchists
motorisciò composedly that dot the High Town Road
afternoon
The cows are sleeping in the nooks of the future
The light poles are torn by a thousand cords
ready to explode into a hiccup overload

Here, where no one has any idea who is his neighbor
Here, where something has already happened
- it seemed impossible -
Where something might still happen
a pedestrian run over, perhaps a reflection of another world

sending cablegrams crackling
From the phonograph to the foot of the temple destruction

But what is the modern elephant
I ask the holy pilgrims
naked, sweaty and dark
The supplier of donuts phosphorescent

But the girl trapeze artist, still staring at me seriously and not
responds