In 2005, after reading Sei Shonagon's “The Pillow Book”, I started a long journey in the attempt to discover the Japanese poetry. The temptation to write something similar was huge. As a result of my searches I understood that my poems, although well received by editors and readers, were not haiku.
After a time of wandering, I met Fiona Robyn, her “small stones”, and here I am, with all my literary belongings, under the roof of the “fragmentary writing”.
Tuesday, 22 March 2011
It's almost morning and the sky seems a discoloured umbrella. My ugly, dirty, small town opens its many eyes, blinks and calmly smokes its first cigar.