Images: Jim Dine, Poems, charcoal on wall, Palazzo delle Esposizioni, Rome 2020, photo Antonio Idini © Azienda Speciale Palaexpo
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MORE DISCREET
LESS SHINING,
MORE
PIGMENT
ON THE BOY.
HAVE TO
MAKE
A DATE FOR
A NIGHT
OF FINE GLASS.
THE PAINT
THAT LAGS
BENEATH THE TRAGIC/
A LOST FACTORY
OF ERROR.
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JIM FINALLY
IS ILL EQUIPT
TO DEAL
WITH THE COMPETITIVE
WORLD
OF PUPPETS,
THE TRANQUILITY OF TUSCAN POLITICS
AND CARES AND THE BUSINESS
OF LIFE.
GREEK TEMPLES
AT PAESTUM
GEPPETTO AT POMPƐI
MAGNIFICENCƐ
FOLLOWED BY
INEVITABLE DECLINE
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PAIN OF THE
INVISABLE SELF
THE MEMORY OF IT
GOING FORWARD:
HMMM
PARFAIT
PARFAIT
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TO THE LAND
OF OWLS
BAD BOY,
DISOBEDIENT
BOY AND
FIRESPITTER
GO TO THE
SACRED FIELD
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REAL POVERTY
UNDERSTOOD
BY EVERYONE
WHEN IT’S REAL
STANDS BƐTWEEN
THE BOY
AND HIS SHIRT SLEEVES
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ANGRY
NOT ME
SAYS THE FIRE EATER
SHRUG
I CAN’T SAY
SHE’S FULL
OF THORNS
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NIGHT
IN HIS STOMACH
HIS APPETITE
TRAVELS
TO HIS FINGERS
HE YAWNS
AND FAINTS
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3 LIES
NOSE AGAINST
THE WINDOWPANE
STRIKING
THE ERECT (AND GROWING)
APPENDAGE
IN THE TOO SMALL
ROOM
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THE FIELD OF MIRACLES
MY RIDICULOUS NOSE
I LOVE YOU GOOD FAIRY…
GOOD FAIRY
THE SPOT IN FRONT OF YOUR NOSE
REALLY A FIELD OF MIRACLES
COUGHS UP
WEEPING
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THE FLYING OMLETT
INTERESTING
THE SEARCH
FOR HUNGER,
CLARITY
“VIVRE”
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KISS HIM
KISS HIM AGAIN AND
AGAIN AND
AGAIN AND
SPRING FORWARD
THROW YOUR ARMS
AROUND HIS NECK
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I AM A CHILD WITH RED EARS
MY EARS ARE RED
A SIX YEAR OLD, PINOCCHIO, THE BOY
DOWN WITH POWER!
CHOOOSING MY MOTHER, THE STICK BECOMES JIMMY
HE LIES DOWN WITH THIEVES.
The STICK TALKS ThRU THE SAND
CRYING SINCE I LOST
SLEEPING WITH “BAD FOLKS”
THERE IS AN EMBRACE
ThAT WAKES ThE CARPENTER /
I WRAP MY ARMS AROUND MY EARS
AND WAKE The COLD.
MY DREAMS, AND
THE RED AXE,
LYING ON THE FLOOR.
DEFORMED BY THƐ ORDINARY
UNUSABLE
BUT MY RED DREAMS ARE
CHARGED
BY A CLOUD
THAT IS GREY
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