to those of us who love sleep, lest we forget:
one day we will all sleep forever and nothing will matter. rejoice.
yes, your art is humble and polite and proper and wears a cravat and nods its head graciously at everyone from the beggar to the beast and all that is in between and then it goes home and washes its hands and eats some towels straight from the microwave so that it goes in your stomach all sterile and comes out oh boy still white from your rectum.
good morning baageedoctor
baagee doctorwaheed wakes up in a pool of his own vomit. in his face are bits of ablo yameen and nazim, pink and bits, like discoloured jelly, but warm still and alive. they harden on his face, in the morning, and hang, wobbling, like postules, and it takes ilham 300 hours every morning to belch them off, and hang them in a plastic bag, like precious dung, like a joyless treasure, for example, a...