THE PLACE...IS NOT EXOTIC

Eight in the morning and this infernal heat,
sweaty- a cold shiver
In the middle of paints and brushes
over an order of finish, which has no end ...
A difficult week
A unpleasant host
walking like a snail
Cats restless, complaining , vomiting, peeing to expel the intruder .
Unsolved problems of inheritance,
my bags up.
Suddenly a torrential summer rain.

... and the place is not exotic.
As Mishima I have dreams of Bangkok.
In Out of Africa I am looking the savanha,
But I am here, in this gummy summer
like those who for years I spent in New York.
Only I am not there.
I am here.
In a place that is neither exotic or developed West
Full of beaches
Fuck you
I'm tired of this landscape