"Behind every system, behind every rule stands a corpse and laughs. You can't tell me who I should sleep with. I don't work for wages. My life is a revolution... My life is a beautiful life... What you call freedom, I call waste... I will continue to love my own voice. If everyone becomes me, everything will collapse."

Bruno K. Ă–ijer

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Breath Filled with Bodily Fluids



Remember me. The taste. As it can be the ...
last stop 
train that separates and we 
separate on platforms.
in carages. Disposed clarity. The certainty.

F A L L I N I G

Tear and postcards. Picture. Naked bodies. Videos.
My mouth looks perfect.
And it burns. Every cell and every pore.
I question my self. Seeing the man you are and been 
before
me. 

we love!
C R A W L I N G

In my intestine there is a sharp
bradded cross.


If I could, I would become a spare part in an unknowns mechanism. Close to earth but far away from here. Then body would become fearless and not so organ challenged. Then Brautigan would not look like the last resort. I fear him, like Joyce. As thoughts are so close it makes me become a part of the agony. A plot. The genocide of sanity. The knowledge that will break my bones. Eventually. This is why.

I NEED TO GET RID OF THE BODY

Body is a useless sack of fluids that rarely have any real meaning, and then there is a head. Poisoned blood stream. Socially challenged parallax view. But, it is what it is, never counted on the other body to save this body. Save. Safe. Saved. And so, there is plan, a long term plan how to eliminate the last element that holds his thing form the main idea and the goal of

BECOMING AN ENTETY!








Good night and god bless,
Queen of Disorder
Sonia Dietrich 


Sunday, March 11, 2012

Concrete Ejaculation Calles LOVE



Pierce me like a syringe with your honesty
tell me all the things I presumably do not know
in ventricle spirals, 
The flesh that is sacrificed for knowledge and prosperity  is fucking 
with the fluid filled cavities 

Your horror of deception is condescending, 
elaborating need for touch 
on timetable marked red patches
I could embrace your index

Is this you, who I must gather form the corner 
of the counter, licking the fingers
I hold on to my coffee cups 
discriminating the food,
you fools!

This altar of sanity in the hands stretched out to wide
is showing the oblivion of thought 
for many reasons undressing in the central station 
in the hall way, 

This is not why I came here - For







Good night and god bless,
Queen of Disorder
Sonia Dietrich