Handmade tube/train tickets collage with poetic graffiti + To be framed on request
Many times she died, on tracks for contracts.
Inhaling literacy, injecting music right in her veins. Something along the lines of seven deaths listening to the 69 Eyes and Soft Kill. Deranged, so outraged to pay and go-see. Ecstasy, magical trash reaching for this sentimental animal. Dirty seats, pulsing the verification, the attraction.
Cancelled incoherence, acid of intentions.
Upside down at the World’s End, Camden unveiled. Schizophrenia spread, she’s lost the faith in the Human’s copy. The synapses are stuck. Come and feel. Spotted.
Tell her you’ve cursed the rail track for dust. Which way to trust? And she thought the record never stopped.
|Dimensions||60 × 51 cm|