I want cars to burn like witches

manifesto manifesto manifesto

uruguay is burning.

the bruises on the bottom of your feet are invisible. I hear the sirens on the shortness of your breath, every memory. The duke is dead. He became one with the gas station, we hung him there. Go to pharmacies and buy tiny tiny bottles of olive oil; my grandfather begged me to explain dialectical materialism to my mother, she knows nothing.  No history. I am become police. My great great great grandfather tried to name his daughter dynamite, he threw it at cops, he loved dynamite, he was never allowed to. It is the ragged government, gosh darn fucking government, it’s all your fault. They called her Dina, her sister was Nite. We have medals from mussolini in the family, communist refugees, many such cases. A tiny bit of witchcraft too. Beautiful catholicism, red rosaries. Let the bruises under your feet become visible. show us. Cook  for us all, make the espresso make it now. antifascist al fajores, i know nothing, i am become mussolini's muse . i am become brigate rosse. abuela would be proud. Abuela said she hoped i was a syndicalist when i joined youth politics, I am becoming the killer of Rosa and Liebknecht. flying out of the barrel of a gun, aiming at progress- sell everything. Fill the barn, never empty it. Money only makes good if never spent. there is not a single drop of bitcoin blood in me. collective yearning. I was named Ali two years after 9/11 - I was sentenced to all the randomized security checks. my phone has touched a million swabs. i am become the death of the west. Let homosexuality ruin every great empire, let the conspiracy theorists be right for once. Let ancient Greeks dance on a burning wall street. smash the atm. this is joy. burn the cubicle. this is joy. Grandfather smiling in heaven. I am become liberal damage control. politics is about damage control. I told my history teacher to read Bookchin, I wrote it to him in a test. When talking about economic crisis he asked me “all you marxists blame it all on capitalism right?” Smilingly I said yes. jouissance, a little death. gay violence, queer even, brings joy. There is something queer about the will to power, something gay. freedom grows from the barrel of a police gun. I am become harm reduction. I am become the lesser of two evils……………………      have                        these                             gentlemen                           ever                                             seen                                                                                                a                                                                                       revolution?

Rosemary

Basil

Chamomill

Eggplants and fire

Pots, pans and screaming

Fish sauce.

Stained table

Espresso and almond biscuits

Oil, grease, sugar, garlic

Ash, paper, tobacco, burning.

Dried lips, sucking, sticking, coughing.

Uni, Tagni, Tana, Tanus, Diana, Dianus, Jana and Janus.

amulets, altars, candles and black cats sneering at their masters.

The smell of sage instead of flesh.

The history of this home and the people in it is the history of persecution, erasure, decadence, defiance and compliance. We betray, sin, write, create and fight. Those are the traditions.

We've died before the age of thirty for generations and the powers we oppose have miraculously taught some of our corpses to dance.

The Romans killed Tage and Vegoia, the Catholics killed their own, both being and destroying us.

The state and the police and the bureaucrats imprisoned our hands covered in gunpowder, laughing and ridiculing our freedom.

Duce betrayed us, Duce shot you dead in Africa and gave you a medal. Duce swore to protect your country but killed your semitic friends called your ancestors degenerates.

We are not thiefs or a bundle of wooden rods or a sharp axe.

We spit on the empires you built on our blood-soaked land and if you spit on the people you once were considered to be you are not one of us.

autonomismo, operaismo, bienno rosso, L' Anarchia, la Stregheria, Aradia, Tanarra, Janarra and Fanarra.

The west has betrayed us and our intention, thus we shall name our children after bombs.

Romans, police officers,  fascists, Nationalists, blonde and blue-eyed dictator-fetischists and western chauvinists have done all in their power to erase me from history. 

So Nonna, Nonno, Babbo e Lucia;

Do not worry, our history of poets, thinkers, witches, soldiers and queerly defiant strong degenerates will continue.

After all, we aren't romans.

…

Tomato

Oil

More oil

Carrot

Celery

Onion

Simmering…

This is a ritual of remembering.