Nothing less than the sound of footsteps
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condensing into a shape.
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Sneaking into the murky urban cafe³?of crispy mornings.
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Realized it was a mirror after hours of work. They are filth.
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And also easily lost in the labyrinth of the theory of their
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own art - this easily percepted. Within the 4 years
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of rain it became my own microscopic Macondo. It all meant little, if
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nothing What is the frase I look for... Chaotic Dementh.
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Ah yes indeed. Been there before, fair lady? A Copper medal I won
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at the chill-kill that day: Putrid Run, Salt... Torment,
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Thirst. Two fierce feasting parties wishing me warmly welcome in
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the aftermath of their own cold war. Neo-colonialistic freaks,
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says I. Tempers increase to hatred and vanish - in cataleptic
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disorders. An apparatus of something, don t really know what,
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remnant of the good that succumbed in man once? The absolute
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legion of oddity. Now guess what in the world machina mimesis is?
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Machina Mimesis (In The Corner Cafe)
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| Fall Of The Leafe |
