Alessandro Bertacchini

"Urban eyes" - poem of Alessandro Bertacchini There aren’t angels in these corners, not eyes to look at urban, empty city without a reason, lonely wayfarers that touch the walls, fearless colors and run down shutters empty bottles roll as souls in the underworld, murals without morals, apparent, a dog and a child, big eyes full of light, prisoners of shadows. An urban forest, sheet red paint of sins that slips between sweaty hearts, electric wires of long ago , glorious future that no longer exists. Neither smells nor perfumes only what remains of a puddle, the only trace of the past, ours indelible, proud.