The legend of the dwarf king. Luca Paci


Listen!

The land was shrinking
And the sky was dry
The great dwarf-king
Was passing by

Listen!

There was a man in my country who owned everything
And everything he had was stolen from the people

Listen!

This man in this country became a king and his kingdom included
All the crops of the fields and radios and lawyers
And Tvs and books and papers and ships

Listen!

This man in reality was not a king
But a bald dwarf with a fake toupet
And a rubber mask

Listen!

The dwarf talked of freedom
In his nation of slaves
And democracy and honesty
In his nation of thieves
And environment and pollution
In his nation of smoke

Listen!

The dwarf king was changing the rules of the game and bringing
Zombies to life to get more voters
He talked to the judges who thought it was illegal
But he won the diatribe and they went to jail

Listen!

The land was shrinking
And the sky was dry
The great dwarf-king
Was passing by

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7 thoughts on “The legend of the dwarf king. Luca Paci

  1. Mi inchino!!!
    At first I was laughing loud, then I understood it was not even worth laughing… you know what Luca, I’m seriously thinking of going away… πŸ˜€

    Btw, absolutely nice idea πŸ™‚

    (in a way, it is similar to first pre-romantic poems, like “Elegy written in a Country Churchyard” or similes, this is why it has a strange but deep atmosphere… good indeed!)

    Love,

    Ele*

  2. IL Grande LUCA PACI.

    Si ripresenta a noi con la sua lingua affilata, carico di bombe a mano e lancia fiamme dietro le barricate. Lo scenario: un Vietnam psico-chiatrico ai confini di Arcore.

  3. I can’t see this poem as being in any way like Elegy in A Country Churchyard, but I find it very powerful. I think poetry needs this kind of satirical anger now more than ever. To draw attention to the invisible web that surrounds us, that confines us, that blinds us. Otherwise, living inside the web we will come to believe that it’s all there is. Our duty as writers is to pierce the web with words.

  4. This poem in a way makes me think to Thomas Grey’s Elegy just for the mood… compare Luca’s first stanza with “The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,/The lowing herd winds slowly o’er the lea,/The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,/And leaves the world to darkness and to me.”…
    Obviously what follows is other thing, also because the one who can understand its meaning see it in a completely different way.
    You say absolutely right: “Poetry needs this kind of satirical anger now more than ever”.
    And, last but not least: “our duty as writers is to pierce the web with words”.

  5. Ciao caro Luca,

    COME STAI? vorrei parlare con te, mi potresti chiamare allo 07906 063788 non ne ho piu il tuo mobile.

    UN ABBRACCIO,

    Anelise

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