We are seeing years of great confusion even in poetry. The network, the World Wide Web where s'invischia in one beam the wheat with the chaff, the micro-publishing freed Prometheus as a post-modern abasement of printing costs and the idea together decadent and progressive "do you "pour under our eyes burdened a hail of words in freedom, with the result of mixing the new wind of poetry with the stale whiff of its waste. The way things are: to promote early or editorials define patterns - for example, the arms of the "new Italian poets" - are those very critical and / or press offices that continue to reproduce, in theoretical terms, parameters children of deja vu or otherwise generic , recycled positions.

Inside in one night, which many mistake for dawn, in which a multitude of increasingly cumbersome cows are likely to appear black, it is no coincidence that all or almost all end in a short circuit: the critics, for the most part, living annuity between juries and literary articles encysting on their "favorites"; while young poets and the most crafty, technically, often, well equipped, they make haste to copy them to differenziarsene - as if to say, "everything changes so that nothing changes." What is certain is that the new poem exists. But equally certain is that it is much too much effort to get noticed, surrounded as it is by a stream of poetry so so blatantly hemorrhagic or pseudo-poetry passes for valiant. Let's be clear: many of the most significant contemporary poetry we have seen hosted from publishing so-called minor, the average or the micro-publishing that has little or even no opportunity to give an account of an essential coram Ecclesia, if not among her own cronies / supporters, subject, of course, the floods in the shape of a manic social media.Alla sanctification of the usual suspects and some "new ideas" that you could easily do without, in recent times have been the counterweight, however, of the excellent books of unknown or almost.