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Photographer’s Note

Costa verde

Port of campoloro

One does not choose nor his origin,
nor its color of skin
like one dreams of a life of castle
When the ghetto was seen
to be born the vice around the neck like Cosette for Hugo
to be born out of lattice in the conflict
and to request very high.

Wire of the C.O.N.G.O
this hatred I have with the M.I.C.R.O I have the weight of the words.
to leave in bottom,
to dream to tear this table feat of arms, of tears,
fact of blood and sobs.


Vis-a-vis with the sea
I should have grown
Face counters ground
I could have died
I am raised
I take my last dream.
(Passi Calogero)

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