Do you want to see the oculus? It’s a surgical circus tent, white as blindness. My date to this newspaper party is the oldest and most famous DJ here. Shoulder-season view of a shitting seagull that makes you hate the future. I thought no one would wear black but everyone is wearing black. Recline inside the ribbed condom of colour that fills the museum’s central void. One lux apiece. Can I call you his girlfriend? Fame corrodes everything. Aten reigns like chaos. There is no other who knows you. Actually, you don’t look at all like my sister. Sell off what you came from: Visigoths, snake charmers, mass weddings. Keep one eye up for catamounts. Do you see yourself seeing this? Where am I in this narrative? Bootstrapper, you can’t kill/marry/fuck your way in or out. One hundred thousand lux. One million. This is the long wedlock.
Thursday, December 31st, 2015
appThursday, December 31st, 2015