Stingy north suns have dried their skin to paper.
Do not make them get up. Here movement spells loss.
Their trouserbacks spinnaker toward noplace.
Genre: Translation
Tinctorial Plants
I look at myself in the mirror. My hairdresser is struggling without success; it just isn’t working. I am not terribly concerned, I’m not really paying much attention, I’ve been [More…]
La Première Victime
c’té jour-citte
impossible de faire un tour en ville Read more →
The First Victim
these days
ya can’t even go into town
without gettin’ splattered by pranks Read more →
from the Egyptian Book of the Dead
1) In it the overseas people code people’s head searched for the nile people’s code despite the burying of the desert strict justice.
2) One wishes that Tehuti, [the strengthened heads of the moon], will remain not forgotten but supported, and a fresh soft cycle of people of mixed blood should be made kings.Read more →