A poem from TerraNullius Narrazoni Popolari – Stories That Resist for our protest:
Happy birthday Europe,
I heard yesterday morning
and I imagined lots of candles burning
on an enormous cake quickly dissolving.
What’s Europe? Try to guess.
The decadent consequences
of centuries painted red.
The red of blood.
Indios killed, people starving,
cultures declined under the word of God.
The God of capitalism.
Or Europe is the land under our feet,
and the languages beneath our teeth?
Or Europe is the streets burning
even under the moonlight,
when we’re passing
through the heart of cities?
Finance is a lie that lies on our heads
making richer few men, few males
we can push down the roof.
We can burn the roofs,
and breath the air we’re creating.
We can burn the borders
because we don’t have borders.
We can occupy the head of the Monster,
and block its fool mental activity.
We need to burn their ancient
and blooding words,
to re-alfabetize our present.
And free the word they’re so afraid of:
Indeed we need to re-draw their drawings
to Free Our *Future*.