O Word, My Dolly-N

O’ Word, “My Dolly” You are not fatherless for my Bibliogenesis I feel you in my veins Parthesiogennesis With the traffic-jammed, like an egg unfertilized In my polluted blood, my desire streepteased. The world is made up of things that don’t speak But they have a language and a reason to seek. Erotic wet desire to form embryo Erotogenically Love you in dear one’s mouth Aesthesiogenically Mould you in good shape with your mouth’s vault So the world can hear you in the heaven’s court. O” Word,” My Dolly” ==================================== * In March 1996, the news of the birth of a fatherless sheep affectionately named "Dolly" shocked the world. The possibility that human beings could be cloned too - long the subject of jokes and science fiction - began to awaken an inner fear. We are bombarded by meaning, every day, at all hours of our lives. We spend our time interpreting the signs that the world hurls at us. Let’s think instead of the world of Dante, but also that of Petrarch, Ariosto, and Leopardi: everything in their texts indicates that they were born of a solid, monolithic, and healthy subjectivity, which is sure of itself despite appearances