[July, Night] Poem by Antonella Anedda

[July, Night]



That evil may decompose like the hamster buried in a shoebox in the garden's earth.

That the fright destined for others come to me tonight.
I see her, this woman who for hours stared at the tv
on and now screams at another body in twilight
immobile in the colorless armchair.

Translated by John Rugman

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