Banco del Mutuo Soccorso
Darwin!

THE REVIEW

For some time, someone had been gnawing on my poetry notebooks. And what a way!! Each time a line was missing, followed by the next one the next time. Until the entire poem was completed. It seemed to be the work of a little mouse's teeth.

So, I put a piece of cheese in the drawer. The cheese disappeared and so did the line.

Since then, I always write in two notebooks, because having a little mouse among your admirers is not something everyone can say.

But don't think that little mice only appreciate the finest literature... on the contrary, the shrewdest ones have a taste for vinyl...

Ah no, sorry, those would be goats, omnivorous creatures indeed...

There are absent-minded and barrettian goats...

And others, more knowledgeable, inclined towards progressive... a rabbi’s beard and a debunking air, it must be beautiful to hear them discuss music...

Beautiful and impossible?

Nothing is impossible!!! For there are imaginative beings who have seen things...

Imelda, a shy and gentle goat, after nibbling on “Darwin,” the immortal BMS masterpiece, appeared in Orsetto’s dream...

And, like the most seasoned of critics, she spoke:

“Expansive fills, sweet little pianos fading away, galloping horses, organ battles, voice power rising, the words first a kind of ‘De rerum natura’ to say the birth of the world and then a kind of something else to say disillusionment.”

You're absolutely right, little goat, the splendor of the beginning (a fabulous progressive orgy) eventually gives way to a sad folk song:

“Everything changes and yet nothing changes, the old sperm of fathers”... the sense of the world couldn't be expressed better...

Not even Ferretti could do it...

Trallallà...