Issue a5 · 2012



from Nervous Wanderings


The Voice of Water



by Alessandro Cusimano





a dog bitten in the throat

put it in a sack

and thrown in a dumpster


born to fight

to devour


to suffer

shut in a plastic bag

and squeezed with a rope


struggles to the bitter end


and girls


wearing close-fitting longuettes

beautiful and nasty

jolly or conceited

transparent and winking


the Slav type of blonde

sells like hot cakes




blue eyes


cold and wild

severe and martial


of an outskirts nazi-porno


boys in jeans


tank top




the efforts of one year

in the gym

or to the millstone of the yard


and colors


lemon yellow

cornflower blue


places to spend the afternoon

listening to the voice of water


convenient slum

to admire the inconvenience


raped land










without borders


an orgy of piled wood

in the form of housing


a child here

cannot suffer any opinion

and here

children play the war

against the loneliness


a little man

thin and sharp

folded on his chair

watching TV


the stench ferments the moisture

crushes the walls

and sneaks out

with rats and cockroaches


at the bottom of the main road

three caravans

leave behind syringe vending machines

hanged on breached fences


young people in their natural cruelty

gay prostitutes

premonitory dreams

and scenes shared at the tavern


the melodrama lives on with the easy tear

but it’s a dry tragedy


lingering in pandering concessions

to pandering landscapes

or strong closeups


in oral tales in their living speech


within reach


baby girls with the lipstick

faces of Christ turning up from t-shirts

mobile phones



sweaty people

who don’t understand

waiting for something to happen



everyone returns to his stories

after a seaside resort interval


in the unstable space

which is alcove








against the fellow man


the feeling of suffocation


emptied vacuum


at night

the pushers greet the big cars


hawaiian shirts


gold chains

convicts in a break


in an almost balanced cosmos


the forced segregation

gives a life closer

to the everyday deceptions


these voices ignore
and destroy













Alessandro Cusimano was born in Palermo, Sicily, Italy, on July 2, 1967.  He lives in Rome, where he is jewelry designer, writer, poet and translator.  Son of a painter and a teacher, his life was marked, very early, by recurrent and painful bouts of depression.  Nevertheless, this did not detract him from research and study of narrative techniques, his poetic style; with a special focus on visual arts, from painting to cinema, from photography to theatre, lived with deep introspection.  Anarchist and visionary, painful and surreal, his works reflect on anxiety, crush conventions and illusions, proclaiming, with a barrage of words, that life is, by its nature, a scandal.  An unconventional path, funny and desperate, populated by staring puppets and strange creatures whose life unfolds between sarcasm and resentful emotion.