Newsgroup: it.politica
Titolo: Luciano, depicolzuati l'ano!

  Nel mezzo al cul di depicolzuane
 mi ritrovai in una selva oscura
ov' entravan financo pantegane.
Ah! Quanto grossa fu la cosa dura
   e selvaggia, e irta, lucida e acquosa:
lo fallo mio sfrontato: da paura!
Tanto lo mal gli fece quella cosa
proprio in quel posto, ove è sua natura
   che per lo strazio fece un ululato!
"Mercè di me, de la mia fognatura
non più farollo: sono scostumato!
A aprile giuro: voto comunista!"
   "E' troppo tardi!" dissi a quel dannato
"Farò di te ciò che chi amministra
vorrebbe fare a un popolo ingannato:
il laido tunnèl della val Susa!
   E quando tal lezione avrai imparato
non basteratti ancora alcuna scusa,
faran trafor di te tutti i sinistri!"
"Pietà, Pietà! Ammetto con souplesse:
amo d'Alema, fassino e il Pidiesse!" 

A aprile giuro: voto comunista!"
Mai...better dead than red.
Luciano
ps...you're an asshole vanacore. For your entire life people will make
a complete prick out of you. Nobody will go to your funeral. 
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 a complete prick out of you. Nobody will go to your funeral.
It doesn't matter.
I'll come at your's, bringing your coffin on my left shoulder.
So on...
      The spirit level
      di Antonio de Curtis
      Every year on the 2nd of November,
      it is usual for the dead care, to go to the Cemetery.
      Everyone should do this present;
      Everyone should have this thought.
      Every year, exactly on this day,
      Of this sad and unhappy happening,
      I go there too, and with some flowers I garnish
      the grave stone of Auntie "Vincenza".
      This year an adventure has happened to me ...
      After completed the sad homage,
      My God! I am still scared (if I think at it)
      But then I got braveness.
      The fact is the following, listen to me:
      We were next to the closing time
      When slowly slowly I was going out
      Having a look at some graves.
      "Here sleeps in peace the nobleman marquis,
      lord of Rovigo and Belluno,
      brave hero of 1000 enterprises,
      dead on 11th of May 1931"
      A Logo with a crown at the very top ...
      Below a cross made of bulbs;
      Three bunch of roses with a mourning list ...
      Candles, Big candles and six little candles.
      Very Next to the grave of this lord
      There was another very little grave,
      It was abandoned without any flower;
      As a sign only a little cross,
      And on the cross it was very difficult to read:
      "Esposito Gennaro - Dustman"
      I felt pain, looking at him ...
      This dead man without any candle.
      "That's life" - I thought in my mind. -
      "Who has had a lot and who hasn't had anything!"
      "Was this poor man aware
      that he was beggar at the other world too?"
      While I was daydreaming to this situation,
      It was nearby midnight,
      And I was left closed and prisoner,
      Dead and scared in front of the candles.
      Suddenly what did I see in the distance?
      Two shadows coming to me ...
      I thought: "This seems to be very strange ...
      Am I awake, sleeping or is it fantasy?"
      It was not fantasy ... he was the marquis:
      With the walking stick, the monocle and the greatcoat;
      Following him, you can see, the ugly badly dressed,
      Stinker and with a broom in his hand.
      "Yes, he is for sure Mr Gennaro."
      "The dead poor man ... the dustman".
      "This situation is very unclear: they are dead
      and they come back at this time?"
      They were about a palm away from me,
      When suddenly the marquis stopped,
      He turned and slowly slowly quite quite,
      Told to Mr Gennaro: "Hey mate ...
      I want to know from a so low swine like you
      With what such a dare you have allowed
      To bury your body, with my shame,
      next a such titled like me!"
      "Caste is caste and it should be respected!
      You lost the sense and moderation;
      Ok, your corpse had to be buried but
      I think inside the garbage!"
      "I cannot suffer
      your stinky presence anymore
      So it is necessary that you will find another grave
      among your dear, among your similar"
      " Mister marquis, It's not my fault,
      I had never made this wrong to you,
      My wife made this foolish think,
      What could I do if I was dead?
      If I were live I would make you happy,
      I'd get my box with my four bones
      and now, you know, just in this moment,
      I'd go inside another grave."
      "So what are you waiting, filthy badly created?
      Do you want that my wrath reachs overflow?
      If I hadn't been a titled man,
      I'd already get angry!"
      "OK, I want to see ... let's take this violence...
      You know, marquis, I am annoyed to listen to you
      And if I lose my patience
      I forget that I am dead and I'll beat you!
      Who do you think you are? A Lord?
      Do you know that in this place we are all the same?
      Dead are you and dead I am;
      Everyone is equal to the others."
      "Bloody pig! How do you allow
      to compare yourself with me that
      had as my ancestors very revered, very nobles
      and perfect to make regal princes envious?"
      "But what Christmas, Easter and Epiphany!!!!
      Do you want finally understand inside you brain
      That you are still sick of fantasy?
      Do you know what is dead? It's a spirit level ...
      A King, a Magistrate, A great man
      that coming through this gate has understood
      that he has lost everything, life and the name also:
      Hadn't you already considered this?
      So, listen to me ... don't be reluctant.
      Suffer my presence close to you? Don't you care about it!
      This are jokes of alive people: We are more serious...
      We belong to the death