Friday 8th July



A man paints his face blue, transforms into someone else before
entering the room in time to witness supple women arch their backs in
black. Blacker than the tea that refuses to infuse the water in
this cup, blacker than the mood of international jet setters deprived
of porridge & sleep. Nothing is hot enough.

Voices fall out of the sky, friends taunt friends, a friend walks off
into the night abandoning his friends. Every vehicle that arrives has
blacked-out windows, pulls up curb-side disgorging hang-doggers
dressed head-to-toe in washed-out black, heavy ruck-sacs slung across
shoulders. What’s so bad, so familiar that it evokes such disdain?
We could all be home on the social, laugh, where’s the celebration?


7 thoughts on “Friday 8th July

  1. black,blacker, blackstar.
    Be social,begin to talk about all that with…think no one could need that more as this blackbox isolation baby.
    Today it is dressed in blue,allover,in and out auch unter der haut,
    The heat is full empty from nothing man.

  2. Ich bin schmetterling forscherin und magd in einem.Mach ich einen fehler-und ich mache viele fehler-muß ich der schmetterling forscherin’s seifen blasen.
    That’s not realy a soap opera,der kameraman zeigt erotik aus weiblicher sicht.
    Ein film mehr,der aus gutem grund auf mich eher seher bedrückend wirkt und mir noch keinen anlass zur freude gab
    aber der unbeleckte zuschauer soll die hübschen schmetterlinge aus einem sm-keller wohl mögen.

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