(après garde)

I cut my eyes with a carpet blade like some do it yourself Buñuel

(do it yourself Buñuel)

There are no collaborators here no martyrs to a back catalogue of the
twentieth century

(après garde)

We walk through the gardens
slashing burning burying
planting pruning cultivating

(Candide on ketamine)

Voltaire would have choked on our arrogance
I disagree entirely with what you are saying and
I will shoot you through the face if you say it again

(leave no witnesses)

Constructed to our own designs decaying in its
splendour

(brave brave new world)

Shit just got real

Russell J Turner – July 2011