SUMMER SAUCE: A SUMMER REFLECTION ON THE SOLSTICE AND THE SEASON
byby Hagar HarpakAI illustrations by AstroCREATRIX What do you think of when you think of Summer? How does it feel in your body? What…
by Hagar HarpakAI illustrations by AstroCREATRIX What do you think of when you think of Summer? How does it feel in your body? What…
This is the first part of the serialised novella Ebbed Tide by Byzantia Harlowfeatured image of the bioluminescent sea He has let free the…
Volume I: Over 100 London and Berlin exhibition reviews and interviews by Habib William Kherbek published between 2010 – 2019 Volume II: Reviews written…
by Richard Marshall Antonin Artaud lies in the right corner, demanding we leave the caverns of existence for the spirit of Universal Thought where…
“They’ll have Sip n’ Twirl come Hell or highwater,” declared Geoffrey.
“And they’ll be charging full price, too. $42 for three martinis during a hurricane in October!”
As they approached Cherry Grove, one of the men pointed out the Belvedere to his partner.
“OH, you mean the Taj MahBALLS,” the other man replied.
It did resemble the Taj Mahal, standing proud on the water in all its glistening faux neoclassical splendor.
The Taj Mahal, the most world-renowned monument to heterosexual love in this world, so unlike the Belvedere, which famously did not allow women to step foot on its grounds.
“Yes,” he said, turning to Malone, “that is all that’s left when love has gone. Dancing,” he said, indicating with a wave of his hand the stacks of tapes and records in another corner of the room.
“There is no love in this city,” he said, looking down at Malone with a cool expression, “only discotheques–and they too are going fast, under the relentless pressure of capitalist exploitation.”
“But NOT before I dip my pussy in the ocean!”