Every Centre

In a city, on a building site, a pseudo centre disembowelled by pleasure in nostalgia, I found my ego, impaled on itself. This different kind of rape leaves other tourists dissatisfied. Violence of the past is resurrected to be demolished, and I’m left finding new pathways in an empty space.

This place reminds us of
everything we have created, and everything we

Dear other, I’m sure you remember that nightclub in Tokyo,
the night when you wished that you were truly crippled,
a black and white dance of neural spasms,
an anal fuck that travelled so far into
orgasm, it became

we were born, flicking shit from tongues
earth from our translucent gums
chemicals along blood streams
unleashed gun fire that
ignited fingertips


to be decimated
artfully, bang bang with a plastic
gun pointing at a TV screen. Fake screams
are louder than human pleas. Prepare a city centre
where 3-d faces are projected pan optically, sperm
ejected at ground level, filling eyes and blinding crowds
to the supreme stupidity of our precious and beautifully deformed