Furthermore, it is clear,
even in the climate of détente,
that a possible attack on the Arab countries
sees Italy in first position.
And everyone knows everything about the beginning but
no one can talk about the end.
And this is the story of the lost plane
off the coast of Tunisia.
The widow factory was flying at ten thousand meters,
over Sicilian land, the pilot controlled the horizon,
the visibility was good.
The pilot was a young American boy,
but he was a soldier in Verona.
And ten kilometers below,
brooms and concrete a stone's throw from the sea
and council houses built on the sand,
nothing else to report.
Only the grave of a journalist,
still difficult to find.
And the widow factory flew,
alone, like a bird of prey.
The sea was now a blue table,
Africa was already closer,
on the sky a strip of snow, white,
white as tissue paper.