Moka Pot I used to play these games lungs became a trap for darkness. I used to hold my breath waiting for the moka pot spurting alive. Suffocate negative lines over a world day by day hoping pot by pot. These simple and harmless tendencies start off as one motion an egg uncracked, porcelain. One must suspect harmless become harmful in throat breathe one-two, one-two. A moka pot bubbling over it is the inside that matters hi-jack cells, vibrating. Endless dream, endless violent end not so, not-so I promise I hold my breath, welcome it, attachment. Sculpture of Incision stare red eyes down, under a shattered crown, we collapse everything around golden & memory particles dispersing like tired eyes of their fear. a choice of no in…
Shawn Anto: The Tests of Life
