Cityscapes

celebrating the milk turned over the flies move towards the garbage towards the excrement but they also dance on the meat form nests in it they stay there, forever, in the coagulated hole of its blood.

I don’t know if you know that those cats were beasts who hunt, that those dogs think they’re equal to man but less fortunate.

I don’t know if you know that those men spurn the living daring to adore unseen icons. The question… the question… the question is not What am I doing here but What do I do Now that they’ve brought me to this place.

There are strings that are dragged along the sidewalk.

―I’m telling you this because it’s irreparable.

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