The unknown dame on the fifth floor is stuck in her chair.
My stomach thuds when I am in front of her.
She leans on a black and swollen elbow.
She sprouts a crown of purple and white cauliflower.
I can’t concentrate and conversation fades to something unpronounceable.
She nearly has what she is looking for.
She loses it regularly whilst pulling on a slack tooth.
She is relieved when,
I tell her.
I am not single.
She likes to count the masked souls in the building.
She says there are a terrible few.
I smile when she points out I need to go to bed.
I wonder if I will be let in this time.
We listen to the man screaming in Swedish next door.
I leave a note for the next visitor.
I tell them to fix the brake.
So she doesn’t fall.
grooves and soundscapes
warped and greyscale, swirling husks
try to remember the synth line, it’s perfect
hypnotic techno from the ever remorseless
stranger with SHXCXCHCXSH (LIVE)
Friday 11th December – New Guernica