Interlunar Rendevous

Interlunar Rendevous 80 x 80 cm mixed media on canvas c/o Karin Goeppert

THE PERILS OF PLEASURE RELOADED

What does dürum mean, Mister Answer Man?

Well, Tiny Curious One, it means

a Turkish tortilla filled with thin slices of kebab,

onions, tomatoes, crisp lettuce, a garlic

herbal sauce, its trip south occasionally

facilitated by streams of cold beer. What’s

heartburn and garlic-scented breath measured

against such a delicious combo of ingredients?

It’s time to gather the right equipment and substances,

just me and a glass of some toxic brew, thoughts

not at all rigorous after a couple of bong hits, ears   

tuned-in to the correct channel as I make out

through static and buzz, not only an exquisite

piece by Portishead, but the sound of a young woman’s voice

muttering something but nothing I want to hear

while she fidgets and searches through her bag  

for a way out, answering my “where do you live?” with  

“exactly three hours from Louisiana,” and I have to admire

if grudgingly and with some regret and rising resentment

the way she indicates who knows we’ll see but I have my doubts

with a shoulder shrug, barely fighting back a yawn, hatching

the exit strategy I am fated to be a victim of.

Dance Fetish

Fetish 30 x 40 cm - mixed media

DANCE

In the midst of our multicultural festival

there’s an ageing overweight lady

dancing in the street alone, parade music floating

by on floats, and the homeless people  

are never without their bottle

of blue-label vodka and who always seem to be

shit-faced and hung-over at the same time.

Like having the flu everyday for the rest of your life.

I think that’s when I would stop. When I couldn’t

tell the difference between ecstasy and its punishment. 

I usually hate crowds, the teeming whatever, the pullulating

throng, but today I feel serene, almost scarily tolerant.

The dancing lady’s wearing a string of plastic flowers around her neck

and Karin’s photographing her and people smile but don’t shake

heads or mock or they simply ignore her, because the sun’s shining 

there are dozens of colors surging and everyone’s drinking

beer or Brazilian cocktails, getting high on whatever’s available

and judgment’s not an option; judgment, at this point, would kill. 

Opening Sequence Robert Altman's "The Company"

"Tensile Involvement"