koncert 29.10.08

October 23, 2008

a fold. a little corner. the time space continuum. place where your bent elbow pushes the fat tight, wrapped in the soft skin on the inside of your arm. my thoughts move across these places. hot in the light and near freezing soon after sundown. like the desert. like i’ve been walking for miles. the sand in my shoes making my feet raw. or imagine if it were like the little worms somewhere in a thick, wet forest. the ones that burrow deep into your skin. they leave little tunnels in your heels. and i suck back my sour face. spill courage from a smile i’ve pasted on to lift your spirits. you’re the one stricken and it’s the pits. but courage. i will suck the worms out. i put my lips to your sore heels. one after the other. they’re raw from the sand and walking. i spit. and we keep walking. until it becomes possible to tell the grains of sand apart. we give them all names. which is a bad idea. our food supply is running low. and soon we might have to eat albert. or jenny. or fred.

bear skin trauma

October 15, 2008

i was a little worried. in a little village. mountains. and the people that live between them. moonshine and bearskin hanging. oh dear. what will i eat here? potatoes.

zine pages

October 14, 2008

a tasty treat for qunst.mag e-zine

za…iste seks toj z recykingu