Time passes. It‘s increasingly difficult to resist, for him and for his family. After two months in detention, any request for supervised release pending trial was rejected. And each day passes, the same as the previous and the next [Skip to Italian version]
— Translated by Emilia Melossi
Drawing by Marc Chagall
–
Atrocious Hunger
— by Federico Annibale
Smoking a cigarette.
Smoke rings
Drift from the cell.
Then disperse, vanishing freely in the open space.
–
I puff another one.
Drags of anger,
and disdain.
Against,
against.
Against everything.
Criminal get-togethers, violent stories.
Walls,
walls.
White walls.
Bare.
The same, the same, always the same.
Bars,
cement,
courtyard AL-1.
The moon escapes,
the sun hides.
Grief
mucked in shitty Justice,
thrives lushly,
proudly.
Falling, unravelling.
Hunger, hunger.
Hunger for freedom.
Atrocious hunger.
–
I resist,
a target.
Under attack I take cover.
I counterattack,
shooting words, shooting books.
Shooting, bombing.
I get them, I hit the target.
They do not defeat me.
–
Legal justice,
formal,
anal,
slaughters hearts,
but not mine.
You thought, you hoped.
No,
no,
Never.
The battle isn’t over.
I take care of myself and wait.
But dawn makes eye contact, always.
And it will go on.
