Rail Rider Easy-care Changing Table

VEIL DANCE TO THE DRESS CODE

evas costumes *

I saw the gauntlet Indians the woman as a metaphor drove before them,

a few times around the stake while she peeled the apples with a knife.

and one night,

just as the rose of jericho flooring over my blew

since it came into my mind:

pine from tin

destruction

divided

the texture serial,

now I sit here and take measurements, maria,

(ma mata, mata hari ... )

slide rule is one of the alveoli which I ate.

***

Carolee Schneemann Eye Body

the alveoli, without which it can not breathe, you eat,, - I had to look up, even the other hand: again and again all the word wing, Sinn throws, opportunity areas ("Yes, the sense of possibility space give " ** says she Ja.Ja.) Indians and metaphors. There stands Pierre Brice as Winnetou , my Bravo-Star-cut in the door. But have Winnetou, oh, it must Winnetou brown eyes? I'm in love with Nscho-chi. Good thing Lex Barker can not get it. I want them to survive and a blood sister is. They gnash their teeth. Doe eyes do not lie. I do not like books about horses, but five friends. But George wants to be a boy. I wear terry clothes and jump from the roof of the garage, without fear. Until I look down one day and learn to fear. My legs are thin, I fit through all the bars. Because I can open the door from the inside, they let me play. They hunt no more people and do not tear their flesh with their teeth, they are no oracle, she seduces no snakes and do not cut off more heads. I just dance naked in the dark. "not ... the Evakostüm but Eva's costumes, Mata Hari, multiple identities, which tells many stories, "**, serial, individual, formal. My coat, your shoes, the skin is permeable, still. Nameless. Nemesis. I help me get started. Skip You!

Eve lewdness

(The Lord is off.)

Then she invites me Winnetou ;

Oh, Nschot-shi, little sister,

to pull you, snake woman,

leaves the earthy mess:

apple foam, wine champion,

the drunken sense

of defoliated Kaff Maryam,

moved found Dar-as-Salam.

Oh, Diana multimammia,

Mata mata hari

-a

It rattles wreath of roses

When loose veil dance.

(Adam come home?)

* read from An (first published: here:)

** read An ( here: )

(quotes courtesy of the author Thank you. ! Read on)