Art sucks. Poetry sucks. Everything is fucked. I suck. You suck. So if I am so anti-everything, why do I even bother "creating" anything? Well one has to do something with one's time. Welcome to my playground. I am the Dissident Poetician. Doing Poetician stuff is what i do. "Art is dead, don’t consume its corpse" - graffiti in the streets of Paris, May 68. Long live the spirit of May 68. Piss in the fountain of dada.
About Me

- dissident poetician
- i am the dissident poetician...i tear down fences with sardonic sardines and metaphysical cucumbers
Wednesday, August 06, 2014
DELIVERY
torrid earth
traces of blood
wash my hands
it wasn't me
cataclysmic clash
pitch battle
sweet destruction
a catharsis
despotic wave
drowning rats
invoking hatred
revolver retreating
colours bleed
a knock at the door
nobody there
my imagination
trail of debauchery
toxic avenger
awaken from slumber
slide through inertia
remember those days
days of being wild
all the rage
within a teacup
deliver us from sin
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