is one of the three buildings on Canada’s Parliament Hill, in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada, containing offices for parliamentarians. This is a close up shot to show some of it’s Victorian High Gothic style details.
Well… According to Wiio’s laws every next word in this headnote increases the risk of misinterpretation what I tried to say. Let me be terse. Let me present my new collaboration and my new fantastic partner.
Will Tigs, thank you! You gave me some really important lessons…
(Oh…. And now I will stop blabbing! Wiio’s laws are upon us!)
Yellow face (Female face), 1921. Kuzma Petrov-Vodkin
My cheerful face seems very bleak
and the hopes I have are hollow.
My mouth is dry and unable to speak.
I live my life in sorrow.
My instincts seem so synchronized,
yet my genitals are sterile.
My eyes are weak and hypnotized,
I spend my days in peril.
My death is near. I have gangrene.
Pray for me, you happy fools!
On you alone I vent my spleen,
Don’t play with edged tools.
My memoirs I now will edit
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What can I say?? Just read, it’s great!!
“Tell me all about yourself.”
I sniff the air. Cinnamon and anise do play well together, and the smell of coffee is an expected though welcome accompaniment. The taste however is less welcome. Downright crappy you could say. I’ve imbibed once or twice but I don’t seem to have been able to develop a taste for that lurid bean. I prefer a good smoked tea with milk.
Sigh. Another evening. Another stranger. And probably the same outcome.
“Do you really want to know all about me?” Her voice is playful. That’s a change. Usually she won’t make an effort to hide her boredom. She must be in a good mood.
Her legs shift beneath me. She leans forward. I have no intention of moving so I gently dig in. She doesn’t notice. Something about this stranger intrigues her. That’s fine. I’m sleepy and this lap is my soft…
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You’re out for
a walk every day
throat to knees
the hood pulled over your head
by the Sun and rains
Nothing can hurt your soft pith
But one day
one beautiful day
a strange rain
flecked your coat
You didn’t care, you were careless
You got home
You hung your wet coat
on a hook
and you missed
shimmering rainbow spatters
on your heavy sheath
you put on your coat
throat to knees
and went out into the street
A few steps…
and… what the devil?
You felt how
the Sun heats
your back… Something strange happened
with your heavy sheath
You’re so scared
You run to your home
You should clean
You should wash
You can’t let the Sun disturb
your soft pith again
You can’t sleep
You have a nightmare
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