Suddenly it was a mess
Wipe the trail left by your fly. Your love in return should be shat in your mouth.
poetic violence
Poetry can only be violence, it must be pure violence, and it definitively misses its object when it renounces its being violence, because then it detaches itself and abandons the human
Wipe the trail left by your fly. Your love in return should be shat in your mouth.
My texts, written over time and gradually brought together here in their raw state, freely downloadable in PDF format
"You think Tim Burton is better than Ed Wood. You think it was Wagner who killed Natalie Wood... "Denial works | AltéréGo!
Peace sought through the violence of words. Here, the text "I want to remain a stranger" is available for free reading.
Beyond the atrocious and useless deaths, the greatest victim of the ravages of the present era is a sense of humour.
My art of living is nourished by the joyful obscenity of childhood; disguises, make-up, genitals manipulated like toys and sexualities...
Me, I spend my nights in the shelter. From everything. Sheltered from you, in spite of your suavely mellow voice that's so concerned with radio, hygienic and concerned.
An ode to the exhibition in the form of an initiatory journey. The fantastical universe of a man subjected to his sex and his journey towards his desire for nudity.
Sorry, coming through! You have no right to stop me from passing! I have nothing to reproach myself for. I've always been in order with the administration. I'm sorry!
Single images / Multiple images / Sober images / Dirty images / I dream of audible images on vast, taut skins that would resonate with their senses