Sunday, 14 June 2009
It is not impossible. The hologram is official. Admittance is permitted, shortly. Are there three voices? - With guitar and cheap mirror, echoes of the early world and of dutch painting. A pond, a window, a cajole in the shared street below. Of course, of course, here, slinking around Otto Dix's own personal table and her green ash face. Desperance and all other utterance - A chorus of sorts, the type of which was taken from the library on the occasion. Do you you remember? - Out in the street how the canvas wiped the wall, edges flailed under the life of her voice. Like mice didn't we squell away, into Zimmerman caves and ithis and ithat. If only we could share the streets again, as the official hologram ourselves as us.
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