Stabbing a Tree (Killing a Shadow)
The city lights call me on I better be quick or you’ll be gone I’m the man that
The artist
The city lights call me on I better be quick or you’ll be gone I’m the man that
Blood on his hands Stale sweat drips into a mouldy sink Raindrops splash ripples onto an ocean of human
Continue readingImages from the Edge of a Swimming Pool in Alicante
A man stirs in his bed. Half-asleep, he revels in dreams of bloody colonial conquest, the tree lined beaches of
Su imaginación obsesiva observa sin pestañear, vaga en una fría habitación, el yeso agrietado, entre una cama sin hacer y
At number eighty-nine, Little Red Riding Hood has taken off all his clothes. Selfies will shortly appear somewhere to prove
En mi cabeza, un océano. Hay aceite esparcido en la tormenta. Las huellas de tus dedos se deslizan por las
Stumble and tumble do we through ages of cobwebs And hence, tightly wrapped Are thus forever trapped Sepia termites
The obsessive imagination, it gazes unblinking, it floats, in a cold cracked plaster room, somewhere between a bed unmade and
Poseidón atisba, en un estado extracorpóreo transitorio, a distancia, su momento solitario de desintegración. Un nunca jamás convertido en érase
¿Ella la ama? No la conoce ¿Se ama a sí misma? No se conoce a sí misma ¿Ella la amará?