I am standing on the edge of the cliff. I observe the back of your knees, your tainted muscles. I am standing on the edge of the cliff with you darling. Your hair is frail and smooth, wanting me to come back, wanting me to stay put in case of emergency. In case there is some fresh erosion at the back of your knees, in case a tornado takes the remains away. This cliff is not like the others. It is frail and smooth, wanting me to come back, wanting me to stay put in case of emergency, in case there is some fresh erosion on the back of your knees. I am sitting on the pavement. I am not being defiant and you shout: who told you you are allowed to be doing this. Can you read? Can you read? Can you read? Can you read? Or are you blind. I have two legs, one good one bad, one good one bad, one medium/ In this steep end of a cliff, unaware of which crime I am committing, I will build a house. One good one bad, one good, one bad, one medium. In this steep end of a cliff, in front of this lousy landscape, I come back to observe the back of your knees – in case of emergency.

I'm With You Residency, Scarborough