Thursday, 4 February 2021

Italian for Farouters - Tiziana Colusso

My tongue is burnt by vanities:

parasemantic epidemics
stick to my palate
exhaling from the daily ink,
from the smooth-sailing communication
that gets round me sailing around me
—or tries to—

and at day's end I take home
infinite sores and cankers
they hurt me
they catch me out without immunity
I'm choked by extra-community
boils on the threshold of the word.

Father & stepmother tongue
tongue of weeds
tongue of town-criers and buyers and fools
snare for loons, that stuffs with soap
operas and reality shows
the void of reality, language of dépistage
tongue (compulsory to be à la page
experimental word
games for the crossword page:
phatic fatigue that shifts stresses but doesn't shift
by one comma the world ).

On the table I'd wanted monastic
are heaped irreducible layers of trash:
bills, calligrams, junk-mail, invitations and invectives,
electoral brochures, chest-muscle salve

Cicada tongue. Dead tongue. Broken tongue.
Not one word for being saved.
Glossites of glossolalìa (and so be it).

Not even
the Esperantic promise of a perfect tongue
cures me
or a cabala of the elect
or a return to dialect
or passing the night sending
Jacopo Ortis' last SMSs on my mobile.

Then one day someone
asks me to teach the tongue
for free to foreigners.

To farouters? Freely

Tiziana Colusso (born 1960) Italy
Translated by Brenda Porster
Source: Big Bridge

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