2026

What if
I stay on the sofa
Stick my skin on the brown leather
I forget a donkey
Jumping from my cunt
SORRY !
Will it be still there at 4pm ?

Thanks for the house made of 3 different woods !

Oh ! The donkey !
It go outside.
We go 
out 
/
side






*





PRUNE PIES FANTASMA



this one song is called « This is why I loved my aunts dog, and they half know/ half-didn’t know it »


Cakes. Pies. Sunday afternoons and happy markets.

Cardboard plates, PRUNE PIES
aluminium sticky fruits
SEWING AFTERNOONS


Let me see a fiction about it…
A girl at the window- looking for something
A beautiful leatherjacked dyke arrive but everybody think they are part of the straight family.


The girl smile to her.


« I think if we steal all those pies we can nuture us for 3 months. »

Everybody here has a little story to tell.
It’s like compost
A big compost full of rotten stories
dark and orange peels of vitalic shit
wich is nurishing itself with pies and coffee.

« We have a meeting to talk about poetry with the younger of the community.
Maybe about the necessity of composting the police state.
Would you come ? »


Gosh… This person excelles in humanity !
Her heart bounds like a puppy at agility training
And she asked herself 
- How tell them the truth, when secrets falls like crumbs from an apple pie in the planetary silence of the family-compost ?


Maybe it isn’t the plot.
But
Revolution
Evolution
Big composting transformation