so they were seen, so they showed themselves
piccole genti in maschere di merda
and coats of mutton.
They hid behind giants of stone
and miniatures of aliens.
Chentu concas chentu berritas
protected by the horns of the deer,
the truth-learner:
with no skull of ram,
with no coat of boar
horns are for rituality,
legs are for fleeing:
always in solidarity,
the second-thinker and the fast-runner.
War was a carnival:
mutes bearing a hundred bells and singers in choirs
centered in a hurdle of androgynous,
devils and possessed,
intertwined the metrics of their villages
matching the different truths on their edges,
manifesting the whole truth as one.
The axe on the cranium splits the Cosmos in clean halves.