two new poem art texts from a new series. it is taking so long to write, so here is—something with words:

1. acryllic on pavement, 173 x 1875

somebody has asked me to contribute something to this space — i

put small holes in myself ; and that extremely sweet pomegranate juice in a

can comes out . i hesitate for a long time . hart jumps into great mexican water and
  • drowns . i say , ‘ every time i walk
  • to you , home ; i taste ashes in my mouth ‘ i smile nervously , ‘but ,
  • simply from smoking too much . i forgot the popcorn . i remembered
  • the mint ‘

can i just add — the can did not come out of me . the juice came out of me . cans cannot extrude from regular sized or pin sized exit wounds .

2. rain on sandwich bread, 35 x 40

the venice biennale is an open sewer filled


typhoid , dysentery + capitalist production standards . i am trying to find

a language where i am not entering the palazzo grazzi where i drop

plastic bags with spilt coconut water spilled mango juice broken in half

fruit which pours from them — before the long corridor

of erik braekman i fall forward and strike

my face on a grey curtain . a doberman wearing adidas

is the lion of venice it eats my face so that i no longer

look like myself i have so many holes that water

Just falls from me .

have you ever seen mario without a moustache

no neither have i but i dream about it

i imagine it repeatedly

kathy aker once said that god is disjunction

— madness maybe G o [ D ] is actually a kind of website

  where you can host pictures of yourself shortly after being murdered

  by a discreetly stoned gallerist

i think about this a lot .

OWENGV / LDN, UK / 2k18.0777