N.K.J.
1.9.9.5.
Light.
The hollow beat
rises and pushes the machine
that runs ahead,
runs, runs,
runs back.
The passage is broken off.
Light.
The tracks are almost deep:
the push is difficult but they are few,
8 arms, 4 are in motion.
Silent.
Fast
rhythm.
The noise is everywhere,
if you turn and watch, something walk
they pass so close
lighted bodies,
it's better to stand still.
Light.
They mix so hastily
with continous direct steps,
for freeing the space,
for opening the passage.
The machine still runs,
ahead up to the end backwards,
in motion.
Flashes.
The grip is outside
it draws the path slowly:
push watch ahead,
where are we going,
push slow down now
turn turn run in that direction.
Flashes.
The
rythm never dies
beats fast,
those metallic bodies hurl
up to inside the bones,
but the strength increases
and the space warms up.
The lighted bodies flow
near the grip
that never breaks off the walk,
how much way still
change turn to the right,
try to get out from this hell
push, by force, ahead.
Hot.
Everyone
exhausted,
the machine doesn't stop that run.
The passage
broken off is always broken off
but not so far any more.
Come on it's an istant:
the machine is locked
the screams, the strokes, the heavy blows
the sheet bends
the walls are destructed.
Yellow.
The passage is open.
The heat rises
rises is an explosion.
Evryone on the ground,
the rythm gets up
doesn't stop.
It's caught.
Flashes, hot,
light that blinds, blazes,
run speedy run run.
Yellow.
N.K.J.
1.9.9.5.