Explain why this title?
 
 
 
All poems, perhaps you notice, you ambientano dawn or dusk and you are really made in these particular times of the day. In addition, almost all take place inside the house; the only poems acclimatized outside are actually memories.
 
When we live the day, being fully alive in the moment, which immediately burns out, we can not take possession of it through the consciousness. On the one hand the day as experienced is not ours, the other when we appropriate it through the consciousness doing poetry that time does not match the real experience. So there is a gap between the live and exist. The moment of personal ruminations, within its own house, collect the experiences and make plans. Then we collect the past and project it in a project in the future, but this always happens "elsewhere" than to live. There is a separation between these two painful and dramatic moments, and this prevents us from living.
 
 
 
What causes the graphic layout of the page?
 
 
 
In poetic moment it isolates a kind of flow. Poetry, on the page, visually looks like the frame of a movie. If you notice, most of the texts have a square shape. When I start to write poetry, for me the metric unit is the verse, not the foot. Composing, I think in a "rhythm"; the rhythmic thinking is exhausted into and within the poem as an object.
 
 
 
In that way the other is part of a this dimension?
 
 
 
The dialogues in my collection, are a reflection of the incompleteness. There is always a "you", which is sometimes a real person, sometimes potentially anyone, even God. For this is God's way of being in the world: do not identify with the ego and allow dialogue.
 
Since it is impossible to reach the completeness of life, the dialogue is the search for a re-consolidation of existence. I think it should be noted that the dialogues in this book are almost obsessive. This is a symptom of this impossibility, the dialogues are in fact to an item and you are in absentia.
 
 
 
In the preface of Julius Greek speaking about Kant.
 
 
 
Yes, he cites the practical reason. Mine is not a reflection on the Two Chief World Systems. I make account of all that it is and is not there. I try to grasp the meaning of life through the perception, sometimes feel, of all there is as a manifestation of this otherness, because everything is phenomenon altogether. I try to hold on through a physical relationship to what is and what is not there.
 
 
 
How it does what is not there?
 
 
 
In the poem in which I speak of "the faces that look like me" [5], with reference to the family pictures hanging in my room, I write that "kicking me and push me" [6] because even those who are no exerts pressure our existence. Everything that happens has a specific weight in our existence. When you become aware of your life in an authentic way, you have to consider all that has passed through your life, you can not be selective. Since the day "somewhere else", it is also something else, then we have no right to sfrangiarla. In an effort to re-appropriation of one's life you have to deal with otherness, which is not subject to our authority. We have no authority to the day: it is other and elsewhere.
 
 
 
How do you start to "the day elsewhere"?
 
 
 
In poetic moment, if we want to grasp the authenticity of our lives, we have to say "yes" to our day. This is connected to the death: the only way we can not consider the death sterile and kill us every day is welcome. In fact, if we get rid of what is not there no more we are integrating what is alive and what is dead. If we just want what we live to die. If we also welcome what is dead we are one stratification that reinstates die within existence and existence and there riscattiamo a total death. Dying is something we need to be progressive in order to integrate what dies and what is born.
 
 
 
What is this relationship with death?
 
 
 
The "substance painful" [7] that I find between the sheets is the decay of the body and the soul. Every night we give back something to the death of us. In my poetry, as you see, I do not throw it away, let me welcome again every night.
 
 
 
What about the order of the poems in the collection?
 
 
 
There is a very vague narrative: it starts with the fact, loneliness and finally, thanks to the meetings with each other, you get to a kind of acquisition of consciousness. In the end, after all they are something.
 
The meaning behind these poems is, ultimately, the way that I have found in life. [8]