it is always the same question coming back to me time after time, what do you do afterwards? What the hell do you do after? After you have finished drinking the cherry juice BANG BANG BANG after you are done with sewing, sleeping, cooking, BANG BANG after you have finished writing up, playing games, drawing your penis on the wall, when you are done with all the passé perceptions of things, when you are done solving the problem, the fucking problem, what's wrong with you BANG BANG that is the only problem, what do you do after you are done loving, done fucking loving the one person you love

come on George, just say it, just admit the fucking thing, admit it, you are not who you say you are, you are a phoney, just a translation of something else, you are a fraudulent, dishonest, cheating man. Just admit to it, the origin of your fucking name and then come back and report to me.

Lying down in the sight of your painting, touching the face of someone I have never met, I wonder: Is this time now, when I know where to park my bicycle, which roads to avoid, when I walk and I know where I am going, when I know where to buy red tomatoes, radicchio and vine leaves.

How long could you stay away from my round genitals, my perfectly shaped like a circle fallopian tubes my hairy scurry disgusting labium; a slight sigh hanging from your collar. You take off your socks because you want to, because you have eaten too much and I fall asleep in the middle of the night. How dare you, how dare you hang your excrement from your ass, how dare you fall asleep in the same way that I did, in the same way that my dad inserted a scarf inside his pants in the summer time.

Your beautiful round bottom is full of nonsense tonight. Yesterday I was someone else yes you know that you have seen it before I have seen it before so many times. An afternoon and then BAM BAM BAM I am dead I have shot my self without noticing while taking breakfast in the seaside. Somewhere between you and me I will find the truth. I will walk, it won't take long. And I will let you know, because I am not selfish, I will let you know how it all happened in a BAM BAM BAM and I am dead I shot my self without noticing while having lunch in the seaside. Somewhere between you and me I will walk or take a taxi. Once I know for sure I will text or maybe call (always an excuse to listen to your beautiful voice) and let you know, because, you know already, I hope, I am not a selfish person, just slightly scared in case I get there first.

βρέθηκα ξανά στο λιβάδι με τους αχαλίνωτους έρωτες, όπου οι κότες δεν πονούν όταν τις σφάζεις και η καρδιά μου θα είναι η τελευταία στιγμή που ονειροβατώ χωρίς εσένα προς τα εσένα με αγάπη

Just cut me in two, one, two, this is the number, just cut my waist, oh such a waste, such a wonderful, dearsome waste, darling. You enter the room, semi naked, like a semi detached house, like the waste you never had or never will have again. What are you drinking darling, what are you drinking, without looking back, just in case you might turn into a pillar of salt for the sweet and sour soup and water. Youyouyou just need to cut me in two and take the two and stick it back together. You are there, one two three you are somehow there, wanting more. Although bloody and boring, you always want more. I thought that would be scary, this number of yours with the hooks on your forehead, the bloody hooks.

You have something inside your eye, you say, or this is so that we come closer.

one, two, three, that is a number, that is a numbery number to count, that is my fucking circus number, ladies and gentlemen, that is ME DOING IT for you, darling. One, two, three, that is the fucking opening number, where I fuck my pillow case until it burns, until you can cook oat on it and baked beans and green peas. I wonder how long that might take, should I add some salt.

You wanted this, you wanted this baby. You wanted a fucking opening number, here it is, then, here it is: ONE TWO THREE, one two, three or four or five or fibre, or fire, fire, yes, baby, that's it, that's where I AM, as you say, I am here, talking to you, talking to your first and foremost fucking number.

I wonder whether you mind this. Whether you mind me sharing your curls with the world. But THERE IS NO WORLD without your curls darling, there is no fucking world to sleep in or dream of. I forgot to say this: I forgot to say: Voila, ladies and gentlemen, my little parcel, my tiny tiny parcel, which hops and parades, looking for you, longing for you, burning for you. Shall I open it, shall I open it, ladies and gentlemen. NO, no, better at home.

This is this now, the number with the flames, as you wanted it to. I will be careful not to burn your golden curls though, not to look at my phone all the time, till I hear from you. I will try to stay still, turn the flame love on and hope for the best. Don't you worry, I have grown familiar to what this is. To the way I should not get attached to you. To you holding me and me pretending it never happened. But please, don't take those curls away.

You know the aubergine soup is too soupy, too watery, and of course you know why this is. Because, of course, if your curls catch fire, I will call the police, the emergency hospital, the NHS direct, I will call them to come and tear your burnt curls and give them to me, as a memento, a gift for me, for when you are gone.

But of course, I do not wish for all this to happen. I wish for your curls to remain intact. So, I will just train hard and perform my number when I know exactly what is going on, when I know that you may stay.

so this is it, I have to do it now, I have to tell you where it all comes from, why my hair is constantly falling inside the aubergine soup, why I cannot make any sounds any more. But you know already, I 've tried so not to give in. Inside my ears there is a small ball of hair waiting for you, have you touched part of my sweet little hair, my summer drop, have you even looked at it properly yet. This is the night of the cockring master, the amazing cockring master. I will draw you on the cockbook and keep you forever.

holy ass or a valediction to your asshole

this is a miracle 2000000 euros and 3000000euros this is a miracle, no wonder I am 94 and still here investing in your ass your eyes your tale your beautiful fingertips, you take off your socks because you do not think they are sexy. Let me tell you something, there is NOTHING about you that is NOT sexy, not even your shit, your farting, your dirty fingernails touching my big oh so big birthday present

I have to brush my hair now I urgently need to brush my hair and I speak and speak on my own in this beautiful voice of mine and I hurt everywhere because I cannot touch your round ass anymore because you are miles away and you are untouchable dear, you are sacred your holy ass will never say goodbye I cannot say anything like this now I am just drinking touching the postcard you gave me clearing my throat for my big speech, my valediction to your asshole dear sweet miracle

it is late now I am drinking slowly the free water you are full on fire I am brushing my hair and I am ready to take myself an order I will order something that costs too little, I have to listen to myself first you say noone noone will take that from me

this is a miracle 2000000 euros and 3000000euros this is a miracle, no wonder I am 94 and still here investing in your ass your eyes your tale your beautiful fingertips, you take off your socks because you do not think they are sexy. Let me tell you something, there is NOTHING about you that is NOT sexy, not even your shit, your farting, your dirty fingernails touching my big oh so big birthday present

βαζεις το χερι σου εκει που ξερεις ναι ναι εκει που ξερεις μμμμ μμμμ το χερι σου κανει μμμμ μμμμ
μου χαιδευεις τα μαλλια για αποπροσανατολισμο αχχααα αχαααα
με ξεβρακωνεις παραπαμ
μου χαιδευεις τα μαλλια αχααα αχααα
με ξεβρακωνεισ παραπαμ
βαζεις το χερι σου εκει που ξερεις μμμμ μμμμ
με ξεβρακωνεις παραπαμ
μου χαιδευεις τα μαλλια αχχαα

με αποσπας με ξεπερνας με προδιαθετεις
παραμαουντ παραμαουντ

με ξεψιριζεις με πονας
αουτς αουτς

how to do this now how to surrender to the unknown hands of yours how to admit my defeat without surrendering. I will do it in my own time in my own language. thank you.

doggy

my little doggy dog chews its hair every time a passer by caresses it. My little doggy dog chokes with its hair every time a passer by caresses it. My little doggy dog dies with its hair every time a passer by caresses it. Spit it out boy, spit it out.

tomorrow I will be the same again, the same mouth, the same empty stomach, the same lonely hips.

I haven't been here for a while and I have missed you. I am writing elsewhere, mind you. I am writing about you, about the times apart, the times together. It has been so long till I last saw you. And words, of course, are dull. Again, thinking of you, I am leaning towards the right. My only consolation your skinny body. I will count to three. And then I will come to find you.

I write to YOU to you you asshole to YOU you do not know how to read or how to read the signs you do not know what happens inside my big fat plumping system inside my wardrobe full of clothes inside my corridor my fucking windowsill inside the whole of the hell of me I write to you you illiterate person however small i might be i still recognise the signs of love

my little pussy is always kinda thirsty. it does not like coke and all that shit it prefers healthy drinking multivitamin drinks and stuff or jasmin tea and whatever comes with it. From time to time a straw might be necessary, I wonder why the hell you haven't called for so long why you lie

this is the worst part of it to wait for you to finish wiping off your ass and come and kiss me. You seem to wipe off your ass quite softly in a slow pace your left leg extended. Your right arm does the whole job, the left slightly lifted is pressed against the door. Balance is important to you and symmetry. You always have to find the perfect position. No weird angles or all that shit. Just smoothness and leaning.

i think of you as in a hill in a hill with holes this is how you breath. You have your laptop in there your mouse and all in the hole of the hill I think of you. The mud is dark and the earth covers you and you do not want to come out, because then you will have to write to me and explain it all. That is your excuse. Your hole in the hill and I only wait.

in the dark of course in the dark you fucker you see nothing you see nothing but nothing you see nothing me crying because I do not I nothing you see how soft this whole thing might be how soft and steady. i have taken so much of it i suffocate and i am scared in case you go in case you and me no stay the same you say don't cry don't write cliches, but I love cliches and I cry.

you are turning around all night long and going nowhere you are tired and don't want to see me but I will make stuffed vegetables for you and little raki I will care and cry only when you do not see me I will whisper midnight songs and wear your clothes and hope that it will be ok. and i do not want any children, No more children for me, no more.

so sad and lonely without you this afternoon or evening you are going away and I have to stay and deal with myself I will deal with myself so hard that it will hurt until you come back and bandage my scars and help

so you'd better get ready. Because this is it for you. You are not going anywhere. Nothing more for you. This is the hand that takes.

I am on all four looking for something, from my ass there is a whole world coming out and I am just looking for something on the floor and from my ass a whole world is coming out

I am going round and round and round your leg to find the spot where we first met. I think it's near the ankle, but then again I am not sure. Your tights are stubborn and I am tired. I think I will only inspect your toes today, in case of a leakage; they tend to be precarious, your toes, they come and go all the time.

this chord, long and red and ready to explode, begins from my ass and reaches your bottom. And in between it traverses the calves of beautiful young women, it's part of their sandals, and then it arrives to you fed up and exhausted. It has no home to rest, no table to lean on its arm and drink coffee. It has nowhere to go, your bottom being the sole destination. Will you open the door, I wonder.

not you, of course, it is never you. It is the hole I have for a heart, the crack, the fissure, the rupture.

in my little seat in this huge space in the middle of this vast city, which does not know its own contours, I read you. I read you and I understand how sad I am and how lonely. Tired and exhausted I sit in the middle of this vastness, thinking of you. I do not want to wait or struggle. I just want to be you.

Is it the cauliflower or the despair? Is it the cucumber I ate or the years apart? The crappy walnuts and the boiled lentils or the cinnamon thoughts about you, that camp in my stomach and make me cringe and whistle and writhe in the little sofa I have for a bed? I will be ready very soon, ready for new visits, I will lay the bed, make the table and wait. I have cooked cauliflower and boiled eggs.

what is it, I ask. A pair of slippers, you say, but you do not mean it. You know these are not your slippers. They are your kind of thoughts for me, who I was and who I will be. The colours I stole from you when you rushed to leave the other day. No breakfast. No porridge. No banana bits, no trace of tear.

unsure how to begin this, or how to end it, I simply say: two or three times is enough, more than enough, and we both know it. Unless of course you want to take it to the next level, but we don't. One time , one stroke, one brush, and we will be done with it. Done and dusted. Then, of course, there are always complications, you know, like when we open the windows, or the door, unavoidably, to exit, or enter, or to let the cat out. But, then we have to deal with that too. We either never open them again, and slightly suffocate, or we live with the dust. Knowing that it will always be there, part of it. Part of whichever part comes first. Hard to find a solution, we give up. And live with the strokes and brushes and combs and never talk about it again.

all that one can do, you say, is proceed inside this tear, vibrate at the borders of memory. Not sure what you mean, but I like it. And I tear tears long and far away from you. I have nothing in my arms; nothing to give you, only a short small shy stroke on the forehead, but you do not take it. You let it fall, the law of gravity, you say, and I believe you.

It has been a year since I met you. we had our goods and bads and mediums, the music the same, me the same and a little different. I am trying to think; how have I changed. My hair is longer, my armpits smell. I wash my pants twice before wearing, especially the new ones and I think of you. You know, the shape is familiar, up, up, up, up, down, down, up, down, down, down. I know now. I recognise it. I despair and I smoke. What am I left with. A title, a piece of hair, a fairy girl. Holding hands in your parents' sofa, sharing a bed, and a ship, and a flat. This is what I live for; the first time, the excitement, the wanting to see you again and again and to know you better and better, to enter you, to never exit. Somehow though, alone again, in this small room full of fragments of phrases and forgotten objects, I hear this song, which has never found its place. Still, without hope, I walk towards you to know you again, better and better, to enter, to never exit, until it is over again and new and over.

Are you serious? Can you really produce butter shortbread from your asshole? What about Danish Cookies and Mille Feille?

of course you are not a scamp - or an asshole. But sometimes the object of desire is uncontained by desire's longings.

I just LOVE your citrus squeezer, baby, its metal frame, its delicate form, how functional it seems to be, how wonderful and elegant. I love it when it lies on your kitchen sink full of lemon stones and juices.

This is a birthday, a festival. What is the worst that can happen. The worst is this: I shout so hard in a different language and everyone knows what I am talking about. I shout hard and forget about the translator in the corner who is doing his job - no one told him he will have to swear in this meeting.

This is a party, because I made it. I made it through this and I still have ten fingers and ten toes. I made it through the dark paths of exhaustion and now, new again, I embark on a different journey.

On the side of the port you are having your wedding party. YOu still have a beard and two warm hands and you are getting married to a man in pyjamas; old style grey pyjamas, not nice ones. Since he is asleep, I offer to fuck you - on top of the clothes as always, like when we were young. You admit to my skills and you look impressed. I am thinking I should have become a man. Then my students forget the lines, there is a stranger in the class and I have not prepared surveillance - such a boring subject anyway. Outside of the toilet there is a bunch of hats. I wear one and I make an offer:if I kiss you, can I have the hat? I jump on you, your mouth smells, you say, but you can have the hat.

now now i am now so sad and thirsty my nipples show so small and without a voice I am falling a sleep, a long heavy sleep with you falling in whatever might come in a whirlwind of sorts without a parachute without anything to save me from the cold wind and the rain we might have an umbrella we might not we might feel however we feel so often oh so tired of this and that now, so very tired. Could you please stop talking now I am tired of my voice, I am tired of all the voices of the world. My scarf is my tent, my house, it protects me from the sun and the light, from the cold. I fold in two, I do not take up much space, I am economical and ecological sometimes I wish I could remember your name I wish I could remember

on the top of my ring fingernail I have a white mark. It is a wish. I am a wishing well, and this is my only chance. But, I have all I need. So, I blow it away, so that it goes and sticks on someone else's fingernail ring. Years after, I meet a man. He has an identical mark on his fingernail. I ask him about it and he says, it is a wish. He is a wishing well. And he wished to meet me.

oh yes, bind it baby, bind it, bind it soft, bind it hard, just bind it. I just love it so much when you do, when you bind it, one copy, two copies, oh, yes, baby

It’s been so long since I had a close look at your arse, since I leaned forward to caress your orchids, since I had my mouth so full of you, my blissful anus, my asshole, I have always been, my awesome, gruesome something, my since it’s been so long, I wonder, my assul, my assul, my assul so willingly will from dawn till dust it it just me then is it inside the ckeeks and trees inside the fairy bushes, inside the wonder bras and masters, I am all alone.

oh, look at me, how pretty I am, look at my big fat moustache, my big fan, oh how big my fun is, how weird, my mouth is round like a round about, a round dance, a round table, I lean towards you, I fan the fan, I am a fan of you, dear, a great, big, round fan of you

So, you said I am too tall for you and too short for you and too big for you and too small for you and too something something and I said you are perfect perfect not too tall not too short not too big not too small not too something something you are perfect you have perfect feet perfect arms perfect something something and I love you short I love you small I love you something something and you have blue eyes and red eyes and purple eyes.

And I said I am purple and red and blue eyes for you, dear.

No, you shtop it now, you shtop jumping, you shtop shouting, you just shtop shtexting

I can make it through this while you are reading, if you are reading, when you are reading. When you are reading and thinking of this and that: thinking how strange this is - how delightfully unfamiliar, to feel so familiar around you -

I come near, nearer sometimes, I know I do not know how to say 'detrimentous' or 'deforestation', but I still hope I can make it through this.

in your shleep you shout in your shleep you dream of me shleeping in your dream you dream of me dreaming in your dream and I dream of you shleeping while you're shleeping if you are shleeping, when you are shleeping.

however long it might take, I will stay and say: however long it might take , I will stay and say: however long it might take, I will stay and say: however long it might take, I will stay and say: however long it might take, I will stay and wait and say however long I will say however long I will stay and say however long I stay and wave however long.

however long it might take, I will stay and say: however long it might take , I will stay and say: however long it might take, I will stay and say: however long it might take, I will stay and say: however long it might take, I will stay and wait and say however long I will say however long I will stay and say however long I stay and wave however long.

little little crumbs on the side of the table, the table cloth whispers, you eat them you eat the crumbs, you eat the little little crumbs and cry.

Have we been kissed? Have we been kissed, I shouted. What do you mean, what do you mean, she said, have we kissed? Oh, yes, yes, Have we been kissed. I wash my sheets, so that your ass is clean enough to hold the rhythm of our lovemaking. And I kiss you hard until the morning. And I love it when you say: I am enchanted, or It just dawned on me.

new

I am writing this in case you have come all the way here to find something new. I am saying this to you: I remember very clearly you hating toast on the way back home. I am fairly certain. And then, in the morning, you had toast with me and coffee. And I wonder if you also like new things, new songs, places and people someone new to keep you company, to sit with you in an empty space. As good as poulaki, you say, I can be as good as that. I can sing a better song, in fact, one for you, that you will only understand, like this one.

1. Write your name on a brown envelope.
2. Promise that you will love me forever.
3. Attach a stamp to the envelope.
4. Send it to me.
5. Come to find me before the envelope arrives

Task

1. wear something little
2. drink something little
3. apply some lipstick peach colour
4. do not worry if you are a man
5. do not worry if you are a man and you like it, this is normal
6. spell the first word that comes to your mind
7. find a place for each letter you have just spelled
8. make a map
9. go to the nearest of the places
10. blow a kiss to the third person that comes towards your way
11. show your knickers to the fifth
12. your naked breast to the eight
13. your bum crack to someone over sixty
14. wish you had never done all of the above
15. wish you do all of the above again
16. with or without an excuse

let's just say that I love you. Let's just say that my back is my head is my back is my muscles. So achey and strong that I want to die.

my back is my back is my back is my asshole.

I should have never let you go away. But now I would have to live in Oregon.

My back takes the shape of you. It is used to being you or next to you or alongside the long tale of you. I push it down further and further, I push and push so that my tale has again the shape of me.

I dreamt I was 31 years old and no one would get married to me. What a tragedy.

the only thing that hurts more is the parsley you 've left behind in the fridge when you've left

It is such a relief after so long not to feel the microcosm moving inside me, the microcreatures ravishing inside my urethra, thriving, having a long lasting masked ball. Such a relief to have conquered them, to have achieved the thing, the one and only, the never.

in my darkest hours I am alone again, so dark and deep it is the snow that I have never been so deep.

you promised to me. You promised to me you would either take me on a holiday or stay here and fuck me. You have promised to me and then you have left left write left

My story 'Now' featured in Play!Fight

I wake up. My eyes are heavy, my mouth is heavy my armpits are heavy. I have broken up with my girl. Because he is putting pressure on me. To be on time. To stand upright, to eat worthwhile. Instead, I adopt a little black boy to care about and cook for. We both live in a vitrine gallery. Not so comfortable. But we do. We live there. One day, just after cooking oats, he abandons me. Is it the oat? Does he prefer wheat? I follow a wheat free diet, but I do not mind. I will cook wheat for him. I search everywhere. No trace of wheat or my black boy. And I cry until the day after, happy in my serenity.

I am sleeping on a table cloth in the middle of an orphan house the table cloth depicts only vegetables, broccoli and coliflower. And I shout I do not like coliflower, please, please no more coliflower, and no one listens. The city where I live is under destruction. It looks like frtui preserves that you eat one at a time and you become a mess.

my me me my me mead meadow me me miracle my me me me miracle my me mean miracle mear meas meet my mea meer mine me me meal miracle and me my me me mirador mir mir miracul mean meal mine mean me miracle

VOILa, ladies and gentlemen, my small parcel, my tiny tiny small parcel, which hops and parades, looking for you, longing for you, BURNING for you, can I open it, can I open it, ladies and gentlemen, can I open it please, no, not here, not here, ladies and gentlemen, better at home, better at home.

shoft, shoft and shy, shoft and shy is your shole, sho shoft and shy - sho shomewhat shoft, your little miracle you have for a shoul.

(Written for Johanna's MiraCULOUS continuum project)

I have an old fat so fat oh so fat uncle and I store her inside the cupboard. I take the food to her to eat, the water to drink, the bed pan to piss.

Ca c'est une introduction. Pendant l'introduction je vous dis: mon nom, mon âge, mon métier le couleur des mes yeux, le couleur de l'amour, le couleur de mes pieds. J'ai voyagez longtemps pour être ici, mes pied font mal, mon dot fait mal. mes cheveux font mal, mon cheval fait mal., mon bas fait mal, mes yeux font mal. Je suis ici maintenant, j'ai voyagez longtemps.
Je suis une femme.
Je suis un cheval.
Je suis un homme qui fait mal.
Je suis un homme qui aime une femme qui fait mal.
Je suis une femme qui aime un garçon qui fait mal.
Je suis un garçon qui aime un cheval qui fait mal.
Je suis une femme qui aime un cheval qui fait mal.
Je suis ici, j'ai voyagez longtemps, mes cheveux font mal.
Un, deux trois
je compte je fois que j'ai gagne
un, deux trois
je compte les fois que j'ai joue
un deux, trois
j'ai compte les fois que j'aime
A l'aube, je suis a toi,
A la brune, je suis a toi
crepuscule jusqu' a l'aube je suis a toi
Je suis a toi en général
Quand je parle
Quand j'ecris
Quand je compte
Quand j'ecris
Je suis ici, je parle a vous
Ca c'est une introduction
pendant l'introduction je vous dis
mon nom, mon age, mon metier, le couleur des mes yeux, le couleur de l'amour, le couleur des mes pied. Merci et au revoir.

I do I want but do not know if I should
I do I would do but do not know if I could
I do I should but do not know if I would

In my dream I become something else, something about something else

Something else happens for another reason, I seat on a hedgehog each time I hear you scream
I want to become something else, not this or that, but something else
something beyond the green and the yellow leaves, beyond the egg beaters and the egg shells. Something beyond the good mornings and goodbyes, something beyond the hellos, salutes, au revoirs and dark eyes.

In my reverie, I kill a dog and become the dog I have killed. Wav, wav, Wav, wav, my little dog, I sniff asshole every day. Wav, wav, wav, little dog, I pretend I am asshole everyday. I stand on my two feet, I bark heavily, I have a sore throat. I say a story, The story of standing on my two feet, the story of whispering a pray. My car has been stolen, my eyes are big.

Tonight

Tonight I am the same again. The same as yesterday…
I fall asleep.
In my dream I dream of you running to find me. In my dream I pray you run as fast as I can because I am on a bicycle and you will never make. In my dream, my breasts go up an down on the bicycle because there are little curves and little hills in the street. I curve and I hill while I cycle. I pray that you run as fast as I can because I am faster than you.

heavy petting

Tonight I am this and that and that and that.
Tonight I am this and that and that and that.
Tonight I am this and that and that and that.

This is the bit where I cry.
This is the bit where I cry.
This is the bit where I cry fast and I run to the next stop to find you.
This is the bit where I cry fast and I run to the next stop to find you.

oh hoh hoh hoo ho ho ho ho ho ho ho (donkey running)

This is the bit where I say STOOOOP!
This is the bit where I SAY STOOP!
THIS IS the bit where I say stop, look at me, I am here, I am here now, and I am running for you.

hhoh hoh hoh hoo ho ho ho ho ho ho ho (donkey running)

This is the bit where I run our of breath
This is the bit where I run our of breath and I stop
I stop for a while.
I stop for a while to take a breath and think
and think if this is all worth it.

clap clap take a nap
clap clap what a gap
clap clap china teacup
clap clap clap clap
I am fed too much or not enough,
clap clap clap clap
too much for now
clap clap clap clap
this is a danger, this is a trap
clap clap clap clap
I am fed too little or not enough
clap clap

clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap
it starts with a clap
clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap
it starts with a clap
tonight I am the same again
clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap
the same as yesterday
clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap
the same stomach
clap clap clap clap
the same lonely hips
clap clap clap clap
the same empty mouth
clap clap
I fuck
clap clap
my hot
clap
water
clap
bottle
clap
and I fall asleep
clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap

crachat

Crachez sur moi, mon amour, je suis toute crache, mon amour, crachez sur moi, s'il'vous plait, si vous m'aimez, si vous voulez me donner plaisir mon amour, c'est ça, tout ce que je veux, crachez sur moi, je vous en prie, c'est vous la personne pour moi, vous êtes le seul et unique, je le jure, chéri, une fois, Je vous avais dans ma main, et, mon chéri, J'ai crache sur vous, parce que je vous adorais, parce que, des fois dans la vie, il faut prendre la grande décision et cracher sure celui que vous aimer.

Et, mon chéri, vous étais en traine de se noyer , parce que j'ai crache sur vous, vous étiez la noyade dans mon chrachat et Je n'ai pas vous aide et je n'ai pas vous aider, parce que, des fois, dans la vie il faut prendre la grande décision et cracher sur celui que vous aimer, il faut, mon chéri, il faut.

I want to make my breasts work. I want to make them work hard, dig the earth, dig up roads, dig for roots. dig a hole. I want to make my breasts work harder than anyone else. I buy them a yellow plastic construction hat, a protective apparel and working boots. They are ready now.

I do it now, now, now, not now, now, yes, you do it now, please, do it now, don't wait, don't wait longer, sing me a song to unfrighten me, whisper a pray. You call it intercourse, penetration, puncturing, stabbing, pricking. You call it nipple, mamilla, tity, teat. And I say: I nipple you, I tity you, I'm stabbing you, oh yes, I am pricking you, I'm mamilling you, I am puncturing you, I am stabbing you.

And I pray, and I shout, do love me, you son of a bitch.
And I say, and I loud, do shit on me, you son of a prick.
And I spray, and I crowd, do fuck with me, you terrible shit.
And I stray, and I found, do play with me, you fertile geek.

I do it now, now, now, not now, now, oh yes, and I am done, I am finished, darling, I am over, I have concluded, I have ceased, I have ended, I have wind, I have ended (I have come).


(Written for Radical X competition, won the first prize)

I cry, I act helpless, I demand satisfaction, I refuse growing up. My mouth is too big for me, I leave this country, I move to another where doors are bigger and spoons smaller. I am spooning you. I am feeding you, I am acting helpless.

I destroy things to make others. Someone is painting my front door. A different colour each day. I have not yet made up my mind, which I like best. So I let him paint.

I make him coffee. I move the blue table to serve it in China cup. The red chairs fall on the floor. They break. I serve the coffee. He drinks it and looks at me with his blue eyes wide open. He eats the cup. It is china. He swallows it. I have to replace it now.

My mouth is a harbor, or a bay, the place where a river enters the sea, it is a cordial harbor.

I move my lips as if saying something. I say this: my mouth is a harbor. I keep it shut. I open it. I watch it.

I am fed too much or not enough, not enough I am saying, I am saying now. My mouth is big, I cannot exit the door, it is big, large, sizable, substantial I would say

It is great huge, immense, no ending and no end, the opening on the lower part of my human face is surrounded by my lips.

I have a hard mouth, a solid, resistant mouth, a mouth that contains cinnamon and crowd, a consistent, pronounced mouth.

fed

I am fed too much or I am not fed enough, I am fed too much, dear, or I am not fed enough. My wounds are shot from the inside, each person I love dies in sequence. On the hill of my heart, people are shot. And I am there, my hands held by my mother's hand, who speaks of futile things, like living.

Tonight I am the same again. The same stomach, the same lonely hips, the same empty mouth. I fuck my hot water bottle and fall asleep.

I have a pencil on the top of my head and I write your name. I write your name on the ceiling of my car, inside the train, in the cubicle toilet, as part of my pray. I write your name on all parts of the city, which I loved and walked and stepped and cried. Your name is written now and only a storm will fade it away.

The good tuna

I’ve got good tuna and good tuna and I’ve got a moustache and I’ve got good tuna good tuna and I’m a filmmaker and Ive got good tuna and why don’t you come over one night and I’ve got good tuna and why don’t you take off your tights tonight and I’ve got good tuna and good tuna and why don’t you kiss me and I’ve got good tuna and a mouth that eats good tuna and a little belly come have good tuna and a little apartement good tuna and a pillow for you to lie and a little carpet and good tuna.

And he said he wanted to put me on the sink and take care of me and then I tried to turn on the ventilator and he held my hips with both hands and pushed me and lifted me up towards the ventilator and then he lied down on my hair and he lied down on my hair and i lied down myself and he lied down and we fell asleep.

I have made a terrible mistake. For years I thought this is what I am interested in. I spent years working on this and I now realise: I am not interested in this at all. In fact, I never was and I will never ever be. And all those years are now lost.

the most amazing thing about my pussy is my pussy pussy is written like pussy and pussy is written like pussy and pussy is written like pussy, pussy pussier pussiest, this is my pussy. Yes, yes, come to me, yes, yes come to me...poul poul poul poul, poussy, pousy poysy, pousy, pousy, pussy? poussy, pussy, pussy? I say, it's pussy, you say it's pussy, you say, it's pussy.

my pussy flooded, I forgot to pull the plug. It rained so hard that my pussy flooded and then it sank. My pussy sank like a stone.

Blah

We went out blah blah blah did you laugh at all? no, not really, then what, what if you didn’t laugh- yes but we went out blah blah and and had fun
We went out blah blah blah we didn’t laugh at all yes but your laughing your laughing is a grower your laughing what do you mean a grower you know because you are a foreigner it grows with time it blooms and grows with time
we went out blah blah blah we didn’t laugh at all yes but my laughing my laughing is a grower you know because I am a foreigner it blooms and grows with time you know it grows and blooms and flowers with time

(she tells the story to different people, each time a little more info is added to the story, preferably info about what the date meant, and she adds this info to the story she narrates next time and the time after that and the time after that and after that time)

Sometimes I want all the impossible things. I want all the impossible things and I don’t care. Sometimes I want all the impossible things and I am counting untill you come back. I m counting because i dont know what you want and if you want what I want or if you are there. I am counting ten minutes untill you come back Sometimes it’s like you will not come back and I am still counting. I just stand there I try to stand there and not to move from my place because you don’t want me to move from my place because if I move from my place you say where are you going and I don’t want to move from my place. So, I try to reach my cup of tea from where I am, I try to eat from where I am, to answer the phone and cook dinner. I try not to move an inch further. Sometimes I wish everything was closer I have two goldfish I name the one after you and the other after me after you and after me are running round and round and round all day long and I don’t know which one is following which one is following which one is following the other they are running round and round all day long and I don’t know which one is following which one is following which one is following the other. One day they jump out and leave. One day the bowl broke and there was so much water coming out that the died instantly. Sometimes I wish everything was closer because sometimes I am counting to ten and you don’t come I am counting because I dont know what you want and if you want what I want or if you are there. So, I have to stuff myself with other thoughts so that I don’t think of you anymore I m just curious to find out what you are thinking when Im stuffing myself because i’m thinking is it really worth it and if it is really worth it, is it really worth it being worth it, I’m wondering is it really worth it because all the things I’m doing in order to be worth it are too much and sometimes because of the things that are too much I dont know if it is really worth it. Sometimes I have to stuff myself so much that I don’t know if it is really worth it and then i think it is worth it but what about not being worth it what about not being worth it and is it really worth it and what about not being worth it.

three things

There are three things I remember that dear man, the shallow water, your forehead that looked like mine, the way you couned things with your fingers, the way your beard grows, the way you twist my words, your front teeth, how I thought I saw you passing by. How I thought I saw you passing by with another woman. How I thought I saw you passing by with another woman. How I thought I saw you in the opposite train or platform or aeroplane. How I thought I saw you passing by in the opposite train or platform or aeroplane. I thought I saw you in the opposite train staring at someone. I thought that someone was wearing square glasses like mine. How I thought you talked to the friend of that someone wearing square glasses like mine. I thought you touched the left hand of the friend of that someone. I thought you touched her left hand and held it in yours. that someone pretended not to notice. I thought the friend of that someone wanted to hold your hand too, visit your house, look at your empty frames and find them beautiful, wait till you come back, and read your books in the meantime How she wanted to look into your wardrobe, to count your scarves and the holes in your belts, to discover if there is a pattern in the way you arrange your shirts, in the way it gets darker every night.

My boy likes my dress

I put on a dress, the blue one, you put on a dress, the blue one, and you fuck me fuck me fuck me I put on a blouse, the red one, you put on a blouse, the purple one, and you fuck me fuck me fuck me
I put on a star the purple one, you put on a star, the purple one, and you fuck me fuck me fuck me
You hold your cock you hold your hold you hold your cock you hold your port
I hold my hole I hold my cole I hold my cole and cry
I put on a dress, the red one, you put on a dress the green one and you fuck me fuck me fuck me
I like you in your dress my friends say I am fat I like you in your dress my friends say I am naf
And you fuck me fuck me fuck me
Come on my baby come on my baby
I will love you hard if you fuck me fuck me fuck me
Come on my lovely come on my clovely
I will love you enough if you fuck me fuck me fuck me
I will like your dress I will accept your caress if you fuck me fuck me fuck me
I will not cry I will not try if you fuck me fuck me fuck me
Come one my love come on so hard
If you fuck me fuck me fuck me
I love you hard i love you vast
If you fuck me fuck me fuck me
Stay around my love i will make you last
If you fuck me fuck me fuck me
I will lick your wound i will sleep in your prune
If you fuck me fuck me fuck me
I will give you my dress i will keep your caress
If you fuck me fuck me fuck me
And if you wish you were me and you had a cuntine i will stay around and pretend im so proud
If you fuck me fuck me fuck me
And if you wish you were me and you had a cuntine
I will be your cantine
If you fuck me fuck me fuck me

you are seating next to me in the library you are wearing black wellies and your breasts are soft and grey I stare at them for long sometimes you stare back your breasts are purple now and orange I stare at them for long sometimes they stare back a man of an average height approaches you he comes from a different country he talks to you about your breasts, grey and soft, now, again. You stare at him for long, sometimes he stares back. I can hear him talk he makes movements with his hands the timbre of his voice is soft ang grey you braid your hair i see your breasts, orange and purple and soft he makes a movement as if saying smoking or talking he types on the typewriter your breasts are now smiling your eyebrows lifting your teeth show he scrathes his neck you lean your breasts touch the table your breats push the table he writes on a typewriter he makes a movement as if talking or smoking he writes about your breats, green and purple and soft and blue you braid your hair you take your breast you put it in a soft cup and grey you look at it it is blue and grey and soft you put it back the man looks at me through his round glasses I pretend I am thinking I do a movement as if thinking or writing in a typewriter you braid your hair I drink from the plastic cup I can see the back of your bra through your blouse.

In my dream I am in this stadium there is a well known magician doing his act. It is interactive. His act is scary. He casts fire on people. I am backstage hiding. And there he comes. He picks up me. Out of everyone he picks up me. I am scared and my belly shows. I don’t want to go but I go in the sake of the experience. I have done so much in the sake of experience. He covers me in fat I wear a blue satin dress it is covered in fat last thing I remember is me on stage holding my glass of wine the lights are hot and covered in fat
The next morning I wake up I am scared I am burned, I remember I tell him I have a scar he shoudln’t put fat in. It feels like I was drunk and slept with a stranger

The idea behind it is this : how much can one take in order to be loved. How much to sacrifice or sustain to be loved.
I’ve changed the length of my skirt, my taste in music, the brand of my cornflakes, my haircut, at least four times. I’ve become a vegan for a week, anarchist, with feathers on my hair. A proper lady. I have bought second hand high heels with worn souls that make my feet hurt, because you like it. I’ve become a lesbian for a little while, a bi-sexual, because you had this phantasy. I have kissed men, women and a dog. I have travelled and travelled. To kerkyra, to Athens, to south of France, to north of France, to Cornwall, to Wellingborough, to Wisbeach. I’ve checked in and checked out. I’ve got used to wash my teeth every night. I’ve stayed outside in the cold in the South Bank for ages, because you like it. I have been hurting while you were fingering me, but never said a word. I have been hurting while you were kissing me, but never said a word. My ovaries have suffered a lot. I pretended I like asian cuisine, I fakes orgasms and laughs. I have been shaving my pussy the way you like it. I was convincing myself that you exist, so hard that I knew exactly the shape of your face, the smell of your neck. Now, I have learnt how to be or behave under all possible circumstances. I will cycle home if you want, or we can take a taxi. I will pay, I don’t mind. I will wear blue tonight. I will go back and change. As long as you remain the same.

I follow a particular pattern. I never let them approach. I go first. I ask them. Their name, their occupation, their marital status, their star sign, their sex preference, what time they wake up in the morning, what they have for breakfast. Then I pause. And they ask me. Waht are you thinking about. And I say. I am thinking about the thing you are thinking about. They smile. I want to kiss them straight away. But I wait. This is what I was told I should do. Then I ask if they cock. And if they do, what do they cock. If they enjoy cocking. If they would cock for me once. And then I invite them back home. They usually come. But because they are so many, they usually do not fit in my room. So, I have to open the window and the back door that leads to the garden. I put some of them in the fridge for later and some of them I eat straight away. And they don’t ask any questions anymore, inexplixably.

I bought this when I was 22. It was a bargain. It was only 32 euros. It had matching boxers. I met this guy. His name was Dimitris. He was a clown in the circus. He was laughing a lot. I thought he was making fun of me. We went to his place. He undressed me. He said nothing about my new underwear. We had sex. And when he had sex with me his mouth stayed open. And his tongue was hanging out between his lips and when he did this a bit of salive was dropping on my breasts.

There are always two men in my life, the one I love and the one I sleep with. The one I love I never sleep with and the one I sleep with I don’t love. Sleeping with the one I love would make me not love him anymore and want to sleep with him no problem. Sleeping with the one I don’t love would make me love him and not want to sleep with him. I would then sleep with the one I used to love and didn’t want to sleep with and I woudln’t want to sleep with the one I used to sleep with because I love him.

He was sitting next to me on the bus. He was wearing these big square glasses that covered half of his face. His nose was very long and pointy and his lips as if he recently had a stroke. He was the brother of a friend of my sister’s ex boyfriend. And I fell for him. I fell for him instantly. Because he told me during a six hour bus drive he described he explained with every detail. He told me and he showed to me and he told me. Exactly how to do it. How to wash my ass with a little sponge. And then, when the bus ride was finished he pretended he had a matress in his house he would like to sell to me. And I bought it. He asked for my phone number. When I entered my room the phone was ringing. And he continued. And he explained. And he told me he described he told me exactly. And I fell for him. And for his dismorphic lips and his pointy nose. I fell for him because he told me and explained to me during a six hour bus ride how to wash my ass with a little sponge. And it was warm and outside it as snowing.

I run I run I run as fast as I can, someone has stolen my pussy pocket. I need to cancel my pussy cards, I might have had my home address and telephone number in it -- I don't even remember. I need to put a fraud notification, a pussy hold, I need to change my lock too.

there is a pussy storm inside my pussy inside my tiny tiny tender pussy there is a storm. there is a violent disturbance of the atmosphere with violent winds and usually rain, a cyclone. There is a tempest inside my pussy, a whirlwind, a gale. A hurricane, this is not a typical storm. It is a giant storm, a rain, a hail, a shower, a spray. I lean, I lean, I lean over, I lean behind to find it again and I discover a storm.

In the dark I leave my last sigh, the last of the last, the one you never looked behind. You never did and therefore I exist. I am here now and not in the beef. I am not in the beef in the sea-salt as you never looked behind. I am never in the grief in the beef in the fry as you never called to see. To see if I am here, to see if I am near, to see if I exist. To see if I faint, to see if I blame, to see me sigh and breath.

This is what I always wanted. To write something that is not about you or me or my pussy. To write something that is not a pussy story, a pussy novel, a pussy song. To write something that is pussier than pussy, pussier than it ever has been. To write something that is something the pussiest you've ever seen.

Come here, little pussy, come here to eat. I hold your arms and hands safe in me.

you have to surrender I will count to ten. You have to remember, I will come in ten. You have to stay and cry and try and ply and reply to every single silly me and you. You have to surrender, I say and cry.

For your birthday I buy you a pussy. It is not a pussy like the rest of them. It is a beautiful automatic pussy. it cries when you cry and rests when you rest. Sometimes you can put it on standby and it reminds you the times you 've cried and slept with your eyes open, with your head ahead, with your elbows straight, with your knees on bed.

On your pillows I lay my arms. They are quite nice nice arms. Full of memories of the past. Full of plasters and stitches. You say, that's enough. I take off the plasters. I stare at you. I cut the stitches.

On your pillows, I lay my arms.

I sit in my lap. I love my lap. I sit surrounded by strangers. I talk to you. You are not a stranger. It is always like this, you say. Always dark and moist here, always dark. I stare ahead and think of the ways I can fall in love. So very few indeed.

So, how far is your pussy?
Oh, not far at all!
Will it take long?
No, not at all!

my wedding ring is a mark from your teeth on my fourth finger. Every time it goes away you bite me again in our anniversary

Last night it was terrible. I went to a yellow party, wearing a golden dress with one arm, where everyone was playing yellow food war. I then slept with my ex, the big one, and there was no place on the bed for me or him or no sheet at all. I changed the furniture position in my room, I thought that was the problem and then realised you were coming back and I had to tell you. And I loved you so much I could not, yet I had, because my heart was burning. I hate breaking up or cheating. I hate thinking about breaking up or cheating. And all the yellow and green and purple parties in the world won't make it better. And I hate my ex, who came and slept in my bed and took over all the space and left me with a burning heart. And I call you this morning and you do not pick up.

today I am tired. I am tired and exhausted. I am thinking of you and all my efforts to be loved. I am tired, overused, overworked, worn out, stale, clichéd, hoary, stock, stereotyped, predictable, unimaginative, unoriginal, uninspired, dull, boring.

keep kept kept

Yes of course, same one, same one
This is my advice to you
Keep peeping
Keep peeping
Keep peeping
Keep peeping
Yes, yes, keep peeping
Keep bipping
Keep dipping
Yes, keep dipping
Keep sipping
Keep blipping
Keep ripping
Keep nipping
Keep nippling
Keep nibling
Keep peeping.

It is late again. How is it possible that every night is late. That everyday is late. Late and dark and laid. Late and laid and dark. And laid and laid and late and dark. How is it. How is it. How is it. Each moment will not be the same again. The moment I met you and the moment I met you. In your terms. Twice. When you were waiting on the staircase. when This staircase, i said, this staircase. Now I go up and down the staircase up and down and you do not wait anymore. Me or you or the steps or the mads, the craps the loneliness. I sit in the milk to cool down. Cool down baby, cool down.

Pussy repair instructions

I wake up. I have a pussy and a vagina. I have a pussy licking and a vagina brushing. I visit lick.com to search for repairing instructions. What I need is this: a portable torch, a fire extinguisher, in case of emergency, a pussy fitting wire brush, sand paper and steel wool.

Step 1
Turn off the water in the pussy. Drain all the existing water with a soft cloth (you didn't tell me I need a cloth!)
Step 2
Measure and cut the pussy pipe. Be sure to include any needed extra space for elbows and junction pieces.
Step 3
Gently, apply a thick coating of soldering paste to the surface of the pussy and leave it to dry. Do not walk or pee.
Step 4
Assemble all of your pieces together before putting them into place with existing, old, broken pussies.
Step 5
Make sure you have quick and easy access to a fire extinguisher since you are using an extremely hot torch in a potentially highly flammable situation.
Step 6
Allow pussy to cool down and you are ready for action again! Handle with care. Do not expose to high temperatures. Do not use inflammables near your recently repaired pussy.

Now you read this. You read this and think that it is about you. Now you read this and think it is about you and me and all our moments. The private ones. Let me tell you something. This IS about you and me and all our private moments. But also, it is not. Now you read this and think I am confusing. And crazy and cruel and crying. And other adjectives that start with C. And gerunds. You sit next to me and the moments I like the best are the moment you touch me. When you touch me when I do not touch you. Because then I can feel you more. I look at your hand on my thigh. It is the hand of a doll with five fingers and five fingernails. I am always amazed at counting your fingernails. Your toes is a different story.

So so so scared that you will never see me again. So so scared. Not that you will never call, but that you will never see me again. As I am now. As I am now with you. And each moment I will change and turn into a witch boring terrible person. Each moment I will grow hair in my armpits and legs and beard. I will grow hair and you will never see me again. I will look outside your window and the city will be here.

I came home last night and threw up. I threw up all the good moments and bad moments, all the moments apart. I threw up the moments spent in the company of others, the moments drinking tea and walking on the grass. The moments when the kettle is on and you wear nothing but a cup of tea. I came home last night and I threw up all the kisses, the hugs, the words that never meant a thing. All the here and now and me and you. I threw up and all my life was vomit. Yellow, green and blue.

gift

I dreamt you gave me a present. The present was you and you were made of different things, all that I liked. You held me and your nose fell, your yellow nose.

I dreamt a girl
we had a vagina in common
I screamed, 'it's mine!'
She screamed, 'it's mine!'
I screamed 'It's mine, oh mine!'
She screamed, 'It's yours!'

I dreamt I had a borrowed child, whose first word was my name and I could feel the weight of his body against mine. Then I had to post him back.

suck such such such such suchs such sacks such such sacks such sack suck sucak sucha shucs shucs shush shucsh chuscs shucshs shucs shucs chuscs suck such you such shcus shuck such such suchs suck

whoresale

They do, they do have in all sizes, in all sizes and fits, it will definitely fit, because they have in all sizes - they sell in all sizes and fits. Yes, yes, they do.

I have a small vagina, a big vagina, a vast vagina. I have a small, big, vast vagina. I have a vagina regular size. I have a tall vagina, a grande vagina, a large vagina. I have a vagina with chocolate on top, without whipped cream.

wholesale

That is the best day of my life, the best day I remember. When I find out there is a shop that sells t-shirts that cost only a couple of euros each. And I can buy as many as I want. it is wholesale. They sale the whole of it. The whole.

come-back

I come back after such a long time and no comments, no comments at all. I am forgotten, or not read, or never written. What matters now is this. The memory of the skirt inside my vagina, this ex irish boy, ex boy, not ex irish, that came in my dream last night, caressed my fringe, no, not the fringe, and asked whether he did anything wrong, the big fat swollen penis I had in the container full of human fluids and the way it became bigger and bigger the more I fucked and the feeling of not trusting anyone. Even the person next to which you have slept dreaming night after night.

I am here now, with my big fat penis, a skirt in my vagina and no trust at all. What am I supposed to do next?

lover

1 she had a secret lover boyfriend, girlfriend, beloved, love, darling, sweetheart, inamorata, inamorato; mistress; partner, significant other, main squeeze; informal bit on the side, toy boy, boy toy; dated ladylove, beau; archaic swain, concubine, paramour.

kiss miss piss and other stories

Will you kiss me? Will you kiss me and hold me and stay for a while? If you kiss me and hold me, I will kiss you back and hold you. And I will wonder what about the rest of them, what about the ones you forgot about, what about them, will you, will you one day remember them, the ones you forgot about. And in the morning I will wake up before you do, if you kiss me, I will wake up and bring the water and wash your forehead, because it was very warm during the night and you have fever, it was very warm the heating on five. And you will have never been kissed before and my armpits will smell but you will not mind and the rest of them will have broken the wine and will have drunk it with the pieces of glass inside and I will take my tights off and we will walk back home barefoot or shoeless whichever you like, if you kiss me.

And the light will be too light and when you will write to me for the first time I will run around the house barefoot or shoeless whichever you like, like that night, the night that you had never been kissed before and that the rest had broken the wine and drunk it with the pieces of glass inside. And you will have fever again and I will bring the water and wash your forehead and my armpits will smell but you will not mind. But, only if you kiss me. And you will say I imagined that, I imagined me saying to you I have never been kissed before and you saying let’s go outside, I imagined that you will say your house is too warm and I have fever I imagined you will say, but only if you kiss me and hold me and I will not smoke and I will not drink and I will not eat and I will not bathe, only if you kiss me.

this thing

this is the start of a beautiful something and the beginning. Start and beginning are somehow different is sorts. For once, a start is a verb too. Beginning too is a verb, of course, but not really. I like it when you go away. I like it, because a. you write to me letters and b. in your letters you call me your little one, c. I get to sneak in your room and lie on your pillows ad nobody knows. I am cold now. I am hot in your bed with the pillows or reading your letter my little one. I am in the toilet, writing this and being cold. I had three salads today. To make up for yesterday and the day before when I had no salads You cannot find the question mark on the keyboard, you say, maybe because there are no questions to be asked. You cannot find Z either, perhaps because Z is nearly the end and this thing has not yet ended. I like to put off my cigarette in the tap, because it complains. I then have to wrap it around, because it stains.

all the things

I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you and I am not copying this I am writing it anew each time I hate you I hate you and I am not copying not even once I hate you I hate you you bastard how lame how lamely lame of me to write this how lame how many times I have to write how many times to let it rest how many it's not enough it's almost not enough I thought and I don't care about the trains about the broken buttons the torn collars the seized sleeves the no I don't want the I will never the I will always the cannot I'm afraid the forever the somehow the sometime the calm down the be on time the stay alive the claim twice the bullies the trulies the bags and the purses the mercies the fuck fuck tenses the will be yours will be mine the forever yours forever mine the fuck you and fuck mine the you never have you never can you never bum you never lam how lame of me how lame how lamely lame to write this you never come on time which time what time you fuck you not time there is no time to moan to stay to cry to try to lie to fry your balls in the oven with olive oil and tomato juice and all the things you like there is no time for you or me or all the things in between and mine yes mine

Lloyd gave me this yesterday. He said he wanted to give me a kiss, but he gave me this. Next time, perhaps, next time. Now, i keep this close to me and I feel warm, which I need, being so cold outside, and I am scared I feel so warm. (I just notice now, the pages of this have little teeth on the side, they are cuttable. Do I have to, then, do I have to. To give away my pages, do I have to. ) I want to become myself, again and again, in this haunting repetition of memory. Where are you inside all this happening to me at this very moment. These are the best stitches. These are the best stitches ever. The ones I have from saying bye byes. The ones I will never admit to. The ones I have stitched myself with.

I want to be with this vulgar man that pucks me all night and does not care about me. I want to be with this terrible man, who sleeps deep and does not hear me dream. I want to be beaten up by this terrible man who eats all the bread and let's me be. I want to be with this terrible man who shouts at me and sets me free.

What an ashlock can you be. What a terrible creature. To leave me like this on a Saturday evening to never try to never cry to never admit to stay to come to hope because it is once only once to stay still it is sometimes twice of course twice it is sometimes false this twice. Do you know how to count? How to mount, how to be? Do you know how to round, how to bounce, how to pee. Do you know how to stay, how to lay, how to knee, do you know how to plead, how to bleed, how to frail.

I suggest we meet again when we are three inside the tree. I suggest we pack again, when we are three inside the tree. I suggest we stay again inside the tree till we are three. I suggest we stay still and we scream till we are three. It is a shame to scream when you are three. It is a lame to be when you are tree. I am in three in three in tree I am in piece in peace in piece.

How far have you saved. How far have you prayed. How far have you laid. How far have you craved. My little tree.

I thought I could hear horses running in my sleep the other night. Two horses running in the street outside. I could hear them clearly, first in synch and then out of synch with each other. Then I realised it was the squeaking bed springs fucking.

I will miss you I know I will miss you so you and fucking ivy and the roof repair and all those things you used to do for me. Before the ladder.

ladder

Now I have a ladder I don't need you anymore I have a tall new metal ladder you can pack your things get in the car and drive away I have a ladder now I am telling you no need for you to stick around I can do it all on my own now the winter and the summer clothes, the climbing ivy, the roof repairing.

fa-ck-s

I will take the piano player and the photographer of the hotel and the groom and the midnight security guy and the computer technician, I will take the pianist and the photographer, I will take them back home if you don’t call me tonight, or email me, or fax me, please, please fax me tonight

You haven’t faxed me for a while. And I call my italian admirer, I text my cretan let’s say best friend my ex best friend my godfather my fake uncle a bit of incest I call all of them, by their name, and they reply. They always reply, unlike you. You never do. You never do do. You never do do do reply. And you never compliment me. I wear breast very many breast tops, I wear this and that and you never compliment me. And you never reply.

pussy is pussy pussy is written like pussy and pussy if pussy is written like pussy and pussy is written like pussy then pussy means pussy and pussy means pussy. Oh, god.

pussy pussier pussiest

mick me baby mick me mick me baby mick my lousy, mousy, bousy, tousy little pussier pussy. Yes, yes, this is it, my pussier pussy darling yes

mick mussy

Did you talk a lot, I asked you. Did you talk more than you normally talk with me. Yes, you said, yes. And did you have lots in common. Did you have more in common than you have with me. Yes, you said, yes. Did you go to concerts, did you go to more concerts than you go with me, yes you said. Did you like sleeping with her, did you like micking her mussy, more than you like it with me. Yes, you said and snuggled inside the bed sheets.

you left last night. You farted, you shat, you burped and you left. You left me with your fart, your shit, your burp. You left me with the sheets smelling of your shit and your burp and your fart, although I aired them all day long. You left and I was left alone.

like

If I try to be like you, and you try to be like me, then you try to be like you. Because I try to be like you, so that you understand me and you try to be like me, so that I understand you. But I try to be like you and you try to be like me trying to be like you, so you try to be like you. But if you don't know exactly what you are and I try to be like you, then I try to be like someone who does not know what they are like.

hello yes yes hello are you here you are you are of course you are but you do not listen nevertheless you do not listen so close you cook for me you wash and you do not listen you always whisper then I drink the purple wine I drink and I keep my eyelids down I drink I drink and nothing happens I hope to make you listen I scream I watch the films you like I watch the films I like I listen I listen why is it so why is it so I wonder why is it so never enough never enough and never ending sometimes augmenting increasing enlarging improving growing growing but not getting better we walked in the cemetery today. You were wearing rotten red no shoes I was not sure where to look were to turn where to took were to learn where to shoot where to earn where to mistook mislook mishook miscook misput mislearn misbook

I finally turned to you are you looking are you there are you hooking are you bare? oh no, no, not now, you said, not again, please, not now. And then I cried and cried. I snuggled in my blanket and that was the end of that relationship.

unland

somehow sometime someday it all ended one day somehow it ended before it ended sometime there was no more someday (it didn't matter which day) what a surprise oh what a surprise there was no surprise oh what a surprise there is no surprise oh what a surprise do I look surprised do I smell surprised do I hear surprised? somehow I managed to shit sometime I managed to vomit someday I managed to split split up with me baby split up everyday is not the same it doesn't matter which day split up baby don't wonder don't worry don't wait I am shitting now yes yes it all comes together one day, they say, it all comes apart. Don't wonder, don't worry, don't wait, I am shitting now, I will be late. It's coming out one by one, first hard, then very hard, like my wished that never demand

my name is tristesse

oh boy boy oh boy yes come to me my name is tristesse I will swim with you all night I will not make you cry I will be gentle subtle kettle I will not slit your heart I will only make you mad come to me boy I will only use scissors I will only dream of vizors I will stay still I will take one pill I stay right I will kiss you all night boy oh boy come to me

Take an orange and cut it in two and squeeze it in my navel
Take an orange and cut it in three and squeeze it in my navel
Take an orange and cut it in four and squeeze in mu navel

enema

come come come come to me boy I will hold your hand I will hold your knee your elbow come to me boy I will hold your hand your breath your kiss your lease your enema I performed an enema the other day to myself yes yes to myself I thought it would make me feel relieved, it only made me feel pain. I performed an enema the other day yes yes to myself like relationships that as well I thought it would make me feel relieved it only made me feel pain

you will come you will not fit in the door I will scream twice you will bring me cheese you will hold your breath you will ask if my teeth are healthy you will not be ready never ready for this I will cry because I never thought I will I never thought I was I never though. Sometimes, of course, I did, but only secretly in my sleep. And somehow we both know. You will come you will not fit the door I will love you forever.

coffin

I had a dream. I dreamt that my dad died. He was far away. When I spoke to him last in the phone he said I miss you so much and I said nothing. In the dream he came with me to buy his coffin. My dad’s coffin, which looked like a birthday cake, had the shame of my mum’s initial ‘K.’ And I was thinking in my dream, this is not a dream, this is not a dream, I will not wake up relieved and crying. Then, the payment for the coffin went trhough, because it was a work day, and my mum called to ask why I had spent £400 for a (death) box. Then, I woke up relieved and crying.

Uma

First you called me Uma. (What does it mean, I do not know.) You held my hand in yours, you looked at me through your thick lenses, that make your eyes look like fish inside the glass, you started dribbling. You dribbled and dribbled for hours. Then you shaved your moustache. It was a thick dark moustache underneath your glasses. You shaved it and your jaw suddeny looked like a jawfish jawline. You cut your upper lip and the mark of blood looked like a beauty spot in a different place. I hated that spot. I knew it was not a real beauty spot, and that it would go away after a while, but I couldn’t help thinking, thank god I did not kiss you, thank god I did not press my lips against yours, against the beauty spot. Now, I think I would throw up if I had kissed you, I would throw up in advance or as an afterthought. I would throw up as an afterthought.

That spot, that spot, on the top of your lip, caused from your clumsy shaving caused me nausea. Your clumsy bloody shaving. You took off your glasses and you never talked to me again. Thank god I did not kiss you, thank god. Then your moustache grew back overnight.

I have a house

I have a house, I have a house with two doors. I have a house with three doors. I have a house with four doors. I have a house.
I have a house with one blanket, two blankets, three blankets. I have a blanket with one door, two doors three doors. I have a belly full of blnakets. I have an ear. I have an ear, two ears, three ears. I have a mouth.
When I open the door, I hear. When I open the blanket, I hear. How much to feel, how much to hear.
I have a house. I have a house with one window, I have a house with two windows, three windows, how much to see. I have a belly. I have a liver.

I have three houses, four doors, five blankets, six or seven ears. How much to hear.

My toe is cold. My hair is cold. My blanket, my ear is cold. My eyebrow is getting cold, my ribs are freezing, my finger is cold my thumb is brizzing.

Feel fall fallen fall felt felt felt felt dry felt dry cold felt there you go with your goats and cows there you go with your wisdoms and crowns

My little toe whispers:
The winter is spring the winter is strong
String strong is my hair white
String strong is my hair why

String strong is my hair blonde
String strong is my hair blind

My belly whispers:
Fell fall fallen fell unlike the rain
Feel fall fallen fell unlike the sun and like the train

My little toe whispers: someone somehow went away
Went to the shop to bye bye bye bye the shop bye bye

My little toe whispers: are you a storyteller are you a story teller
Keep up keep up and stick to it kep up

My fingers touch my fingers touch my fingers touch my fingers I take the string I make a knot are you a storyteller my little toe why are you so short I m a story teller my little toe

My placking tow sighs, my lacking toe lies, my blacking toe flies, my clapping toe cries.

I have one house to cry one house to laugh one bench to lie one bench to lunch one house to try one house to crash one bench to die one bench to last one house to dry one house to brush one bench to die one bench to last

Tim

I wake up in the morning and he is liying on the bed next to me. Tim? I say. Yes, he says, it’s me. Tim, Tim Endkins? NO, no, Etchells, Tim Etchells. He laughs and he makes vulgar jokes and I laugh too, although not sure he is very funny. Then I realise you lie on the other side of the bed. I 've known you for years, so I can talk about love without prohibitions. Would you love me more or less if I did this or that? I would love you they say. Then I realise you are not my boyfriend, you are somebody else’s boyfriend, but we are together. My boyfrined, who doesn’t like to be called a boyfriend, is far away for the time being. So, I tell you, can we not kiss anymore, until my boyfriend comes back? Yes, you say, but, what about Tim? Yes, what about Tim? Oh yes, yes, Tim.

pack off

Pack of pack off you son of a litch pack off
You packing betrayed my feelings you asslock
You pack off you packing asslock you son of a litch you terrible creature
And now I am here loving you with all my part all my part loves you and misses you you asslock you son of a litch you packing terrible creature
Pack off pack off I can’t even talk to my glister anymore I cannot even talk to my blister,
I cannot even talk to my pister anymore, I cannot even talk to my fister

endings

it was my birthday all the people I hated showed up i was angry to spend my birthday with them they brought me a cake in the shape of a violin case i sat on it my mistake the couples wouldn't show up not because they didn't want to but because they were couples the couples wouldn't show up their loss bad for them very bad very very bad

i dreamt that i was forced to be engaged with you you were the one that forced to get engaged to you were the one I hated the one that wouldn't let me breath or speak or cry the one that made me cry you were inside the wardrobe the wardrobe was my heart i shouted and shouted and wanted you out but you were stuck inside my wardrobe

wroclaw

ssss shhhh where is she where is she there she is yes yes there she is is she severe severe is she severe, you shut up shut up you shon of bitch you shon of a bitch
mmm how old are you yes yes how old are you yes yes that's it, tack it in you silly girl tack it in yes that's better that's what you need yes that looks good that looks better
mmm to poulaki sou poulaki sou poulaki sou poso se thelw agaph mou poso mou leipeis poso se skeftomai kathhmerina kathhmerina den yparxei allo kathhmerina
yes yes take it out, yes that's it, empty the folders, one by one, yes, with your hands, yes, your fingers, your beautiful long fingers, empty the folders baby, yes, all of them, take them out, yes, all of them, close now the door, close it baby, with your hand, your fingers, your beautiful fingers, yes, touch the handle, touch the door handle, with your warm palm, yes, that's it, baby, that's it

dandelion clock

in the end of south
i shall meet you again
perhaps
scared again
scarcely
almost scarcely
scarcely
one by one
only one
only
of what
I do not know
without you
I stay
and weep
the last time
in the seashore
in the shore of a sea
in the end of the south
you ahead me
me ahead you
scarcely next to each other
my shoulder
almost reaches you
sometimes
when you lean down
easier
easier
darling
in the hill of hopes
i shall meet you again
somehow
it is all a cliche
me you
looking on the other side
caressing
pretending
we reached the top of the hill
your hill
i kiss
i kiss

pillow

I wake up. I have forgotten my dream. I speak in English. The only thing left to talk about is the envelop.

i had a dream i dreamt you had another girl on the first floor and i was unhappy then i went to buy some vintage clothes and i was happy she was blond, called heather, very nice, I decided we can be friends, but, how could you have another girl? how could you have another gitl on the first floor and leave me on the ground?

thick air

i had a dream i dreamt that my mum was made out of thick air and she had instead of a heart a wound. Every time I said I m not coming back the wound cried and my mum was sad. How often did the wound cry, that I don't know. I only know that when I went back at last my mum was as thin as the air she almost vanished against the wall and it took me some time to find out.

I was wearing leopard trousers, the ones that never fit me, and high heels, pink or red or yellow. Then you texted me. I said I am in Greece now, I am sorry I never made it to your performance, I recorded myself typing this message in the leopard trousers and high heels and sent it to you. And I was very thin, very very thin, you could hardly see me and I had a wound instead of a heart.

i went to buy this necklace it was a shop three steps off the ground a very small shop that you could enter from both sides. Then the woman went on a trip. It was a leisure trip with a boat. And the boat sank. It didnt sink straight away, it suffered a little and then it sank. And I couldn't believe that she was gone dead lost drown. The woman from the shop where I bought the necklace, the boat which was three steps off the ground and had two entrances. And I cried and cried.

πού πήγε το πουλάκι μου? πού πήγε το πουλάκι μου?

you hadn't called me for a while. I was cycling to the market to buy a clay pot for my gardenia. Then I saw the truck. I saw it in front of me, it was big, and tall, like a truck. And I thought, what if I crashed on it what if I crashed with my bike and fell on the road, and I was conscious enough still to call you and say I had a truck accident on the way to the gardenia clay pot shop. Your voice would be worried but calm and soft and you will try to comfort my feelings. The ambulance will arrive and the nurse will talk to you on the phone and say my condition is crucial and you have to talk to me for a while, so that I don't lose my senses. Because, if I lose my senses, my condition will be crucial. The nurse will be very strict and say: under no condition should you stop talking to me with your soft and calm, but worried voice, your soft and calm voice. And, I will listen to you, happy and calm, for a while.

you said you couldn't hold it you couldn't hold it and you travelled to crete to see him and you pucked like mad like animals and his penis inserted your vagina the same penis that inserted mine you couldn't hold it you pucked like mad and now he is holding me and you are lying next to me in the bed and I want to die

the clock and the cock

how wonderful how wonderfully wonderful
to wake up next to you this morning
to think I wake up next to you
to think next to you this morning
to think I wake up this morning

i say wake up the clock is clocking
the clock is clocking dear how wonderful

you say no no i have my own clock
and it is not yet clocking it is not yet

how wonderful how wonderfully wonderful
to wake up how wonderful

two clocks clocking
two clocks out of synch clocking

letter from BB about a feather always already lost

it's ok the chicken has landed

it's ok it's ok it's ok
The chicken has landed
he left on 22nd May and arrived just today
I think he's been through some ordeal with the Royal Post
His packaging was broken
and as the post man slipped him through my little box this morning
I caught him in my arms

I looked out of the window
a trail of his yellow feathers were sprinkled up the street
and i gasped
I gasped
ah!

i was not expecting him
but i caught him in my arms and a little tear dropped to the floor
i mopped it up with a little towel and opened my package
a book
3 images
a scroll of writing

it's ok it's ok it's ok
but the chicken, only two of his feathers remain
i gasped!
I think the post man was smiling,
I asked him about my chicken and he said
something about a wondrous beginning

(in a low, slow, manly voice)
yes yes that's it, take it out, yes that's it, empty the folders, one by one, yes, with your hands, yes, your fingers, your beautiful long fingers, empty the folders baby, yes, all of them, take them out, yes, all of them, close now the door, close it baby, with your hand, your fingers, your beautiful fingers, yes, touch the handle, touch the door handle, with your warm palm, yes, that's it, baby, that's it

why didn't you appear before? What do you mean before? Why didn't I appear before?
Because I was kissing someone else, I was lying in bed ill, I was waiting for the knock on the door. Because I was waiting for the sauce to firm, because I was not sure I believed in you or me or anything at all because it is always too late anyway. Because in order to appear you need to disappear and I am scared of that, because before is now, now, and after, afterwards, before is afterwards and after a while. Because I was old and ill dying in my death bed, because the zip was stuck and I suffered from scabies, because I had only one leg, one arm, one eye, because my hair was not long enough, because I was still trying to stick the pieces back together, because it was not long ago, because, somehow, I knew and I waited for you to ask the question.

before what? Before I can reach you, before 11 o' clock, before it's too late, before the clock strikes, beforehand, before I die, before you come back, before you remember, before I shrink in my bed and can't reach the key, before my hair turns white, before the end, before the beginning, before it gets too cold or too dark before you know it, before midnight, before before.

I opened my pussy pocket and found inside an autumn leave. My hair waved at me. This is your day, this is your day, they said. They looked lonely and kind of sad.

this story this first story about this other story there is a story in the story
she lives on the ground floor she eats every afternoon she eats and then throws up
it is really hard to say it is so very hard
this story this great story this very first story
she eats in the afternoon and then waits until the next day in the afternoon to eat again
i do find it hard sometimes
the story has now reached its middle it starts from the middle it is a middle story
every afternoon counts the hours down for the next afternoon, she always eats very little so that she can stay up and count down
of course I could just make it up make it up I wouldn't need to say the truth or stick to the facts of course
in medias res this is how it started from the middle to the end and then to the middle again
13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20
of course I wouldn't mind lying to you I wouldn't mind lying to anyone in fact to my close friends, to my neighbors, to my siblings
21, 22, 23, 24, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5,
this is a story that keeps going to does not have an end, because by the time the afternoon will come she has to wait for the next one and so on and on
5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11,
yes yes yes its nearly there its nearly the end I don't mind I can make it up yes baby make it up make it up she lives on the ground floors and she counts the hours to the end
this story begins by repeating itself. Its first time take place many times, amongst which one is the last.

how dare you how dare you how did you do it how did you do it how dare you/look at me have a great look at me have you ever seen this have you ever seen that what so wrong with you look at me sooo good yes yes yes sooo good, soo good I cannot resist I cannot say or stay, look at me have a great good look at me sooo unbielivably undeniably good yes yes

by Daphne Twiesselmann

Once upon the time, a beautiful fairy organised a wondrous party to celebrate her birthday. People from various lands and horizons were invited and the castle that marked the end of the last mile was soon filled with minstrels, troubadours, fabulous performance artists, talented cooks, two spey wives, a giant, a wizard, and the good twin sister of Medusa. As the evening reached its momentum, the fairy princess fell into a trance and all who were present came to live one of those great shamanic experiences that one does not forget. Many were transfixed, a few were prompted to extrovert to the extreme, they all spoke in tongues and danced to unknown rhythms till the sun rose on a new day and appeased at last the minds of those transformed children...

my new performance title work in progress

this is what I wrote for my friend Owen's performance on Saturday

This is a rhapsodic story. And it starts with a tongue in a field of rose petals. Its fragments invite you to let go of the handbrake and follow its sloppy paths. It is a story about a small trolley, on top of which there is a man sitting. A man who cries shit, who doesn’t bother to finish you off, who hopes that something will eventually occur, last or somehow end: Let’s start something! Come on! Let’s start something now, he says. A man who likes surfaces: a smelly carpet, a porcelain vase, a wallpaper with rose petals.
Sometimes, he rubs himself against them.

I’ll just be standing. I’ll just be here, he says. And his legs do not reach the ground. Lick my juice, lick my cunt, he says, and he remains unmoved, on his little table trolley. This is a rhapsodic story, in the literal sense of the word, the word ‘rhaptein,’ which means stitch or sew together. It is a sewn story. Random images come together: A funfair party, the boy who jumps in his stripy pants, who jumps up and down, the curly-hair boy. Two bare legs, which do not touch the ground. Keep your feet on the ground. A crazy dance in a hoodie, a boy in a plastic bag who hands in the microphone. These are the images I recall. And there is something about their randomness that makes them last and last longer. Lick my juice, lick my cunt, come on, you know what you like, he says.

Despite its fragmented nature, the performed text acquires almost immediately a context. The specificity of detail, although we don’t know precisely what the situation is, or what it refers to, draws me closer to the story and rubs me against its surface. The man on the little trolley, with his feet on the air, his bare legs wide open, in front of us, remains still. We know he can walk, we have seen him walking before, he is not incapable of walking. Yet, he remains still. Anyone, at any moment could push him off the trolley with the little wheels. Yet, he does not seem defenseless. His vulnerability is a forceful one, exposed in our eyes with a violent helplessness. Something about that stillness makes me wonder whether he chooses to be still, or he has no choice, like Winnie, perhaps, stuck up to her waist in a mound.

What is the worst thing I could tell you today? Suck on my big titty nipples. Mother fucker...oh yeah…give it to me…oh yes. To me. Me too, never again…lets just do it, he says. Horny, lustful, yet at the same time deeply sentimental, the text refers to a love story that you long to be part of. Soon you realize that this could be any story, any love story that has ever existed, any love story that involves a man sitting on a little trolley, a tongue in a valley, an evening sunset, a funfair, a dance.

What is the colour of the thread and its texture. How to stitch the fragments together. How to take them apart. Or is it important.

Do you know what a medal is or a trophy, he says. I let go of the handbrake. I am there too. This is my small trolley. I put on the leather jacket, my medal trophy and I start rolling down the slope. My little trolley takes me to the room with the small bed that he talks about, where it is easier to wake up in the morning, to the place where the branches and the leaves and the fruit are pissing over my legs this time.
This is why I never keep my legs on the ground.
Now, I wonder what you think of me. If you like me. If I am ok.
The light will come on soon. It is quite simple.
And I am standing. I am there.
My medal or trophy commemorates that event, the event of being there, of not keeping my feet on the ground, of being pissed, splashed, spanked and shat. And I am still there, standing, with my feet off the ground.

May 2009

i am this man I am this man with the hunch the hunch over the glass the hunch as small as a cloud I am this man that holds your fingers about to break they do not move do not move slow as the sand do you hear me I am this man I roll up my collar I roll up and I crawl towards you your broken fingers touch me for the first time too close I cannot breathe

i loved you and loved you and touched you with my oven hands and saw you leaning on another's arms. You leaned and you forced my oven hands oven little oven baked hands you leaned on another's arms and you made them frozen now frozen

He put his right hand on the edge of my seat. I looked at it before sitting down. He looked at it too. But he didn't move. His right hand was purposefully placed on the edge of my seat. So I sat. I sat and the edge of my bottom touched the edge of his hand. And each time we'd encounter a red light or a quick turn or a zebra crossing or a bicycle, a random animal, a car accident, the riot police, Hare Krishna or a group of marathon runners, my bottom would press on his warm hand and each time his hand was warmer and the pressure against it more and more. Then he handed me a post-it. I think I am your uncle, he said. He looked at me in the eyes and we knew straight away. The next day he moved in.

neuf

I feel lethargic in my new house everything is far away from everything that existed before you are coming to visit and there are two birds flying on my ceiling

you called from the airplaine. My phone was growing inside the seaweed and I was liying on the road painting my hands blue, yellow and white waiting for someone to offer me a job (in the film industry). You called from the airplane. You sounded far. You were. You were in the air. You sounded strange. You said you are with  a girl. I said, yes, I know, with that girl of yours. You paused. I said, don't pause. Then I paused. I asked: is she your girl? You said yes. I dropped the phone in the seaweed.  

(andrew James Jones)

I hate those girls, those girls that first become friends with the boy, the boy I like, they first become friends, very close friends, they pretend it never crossed their mind, nothing beyond friendship. Then, one night, when they are friends and he cooks mackerel and mash and green lentils, the same night that he crushes a whole nutmeg, they read a book or they do something else, they lie on the familiar blanket. Then, accidently, extremely accidently it happens. They are not friends anymore and it has never crossed their mind. And of course, he cannot live without them anymore and he loves them more and more, more and more each day, and this is how he is trapped forever. I hate those girls.

hotel voulez-vous

so, you said you wouldn't have me, because you didn't know me that well, because you had met me only once. You wouldn't have me home, because it was too far away, because you were not sure. And I couldn't bear the feeling of you thinking of me as one of them, one of those women who car and crash and home and feed and stay. I couldn't bear thinking you might feel I wanted to car and crash and stay. So, I came back to yours one night, the night of the mackerel and mash, going to be simple, the night of the green lentils, when you crushed a whole nutmeg. I had never seen anyone crushing a whole nutmeg before. Your ribs were broken and you were hurting. I wanted to hitch-hike to come quicker, the dog was barking, my anorak was too small and I had no knickers on. You opened the door and said 'Tack your belly in', you said 'tack your belly in, silly girl, yes, yes, that's right, that's better, that's what you need'.

We lied down and fell asleep, you liked to sleep with strangers, one, two or more it depends on the time.

that is all it takes, one small word, made by two others. One small word, sweetheart.

(image: andrew james jones)