So-and-So Inside
Question at the dawn of primitive childhood. A few words to grant me a free space like a building site on the edge of the forest.
Somebody in it; I do my best to make sure there's somebody in it; something in the lemon; not just an appearance. When you knock on someone's door, you wish there was always someone behind the door. Not just the dog barking in response. Of course, you have to be free to hide if you don't feel like answering. That's what's fun when you've done a bit of homework. You can hide in corners that others don't suspect, among the ruins of what you know so well because you have destroyed it yourself.
Poetry of micro betrayal, invisible to the eye, but so strongly felt that it takes years to express its substance, to draw its outlines.
Between denial and rewards, the ordinary little fascism of parental education could be seen in the expressions on my father's face.
Scam; burning lie! The vigour of the body dominates all the wisdom of the old. The human is only true through the bluff of its characters.
"You understand, erotic nudity is so much stronger than pornographic brutality..." "Yes, yes... and my ass? " I would answer soberly.
