La parola da casa, Serena Piccoli

dino campana says in one of his poems, "and lights and lights, and i far away and alone." i imagine him hawking his book at the giubbe rosse in the piazza della repubblica in florence. so many offhanded comments from now forgotten writers making fun of his lunacy and poverty. he, though, is the orpheus of his own story, and we are the dead lovers being called to arise into a reconfigured language--not wholly new, but somehow complete shaken, world and all. somehow he presents what his maestro, whitman, knew, that language as a cultural act conditions how we perceive our political, sexual, and social worldview.

if campana's presentation is correct and whitman's thought, how then do we shake the language of capitalism, as adorno discussed, to make space for the individual?