![[d/dn]](https://daveydreamnation.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/ddn-site-logo-small.png){kind=logo}
we landed emus on the moon & fed them cake until they glowed we could see them from space – maralinga, woomera’s satellite dishes grew absurd corruptions our original superpower dreams [hiroshima moruroa maralinga] a future where girls worry their…
in a scene from the cassandra crossing pitch black serbian night gives way to the acetylene of factories tunnels & dams ringed by lights blazing passports waving (facsimiles of concrete aqueducts soldered bridges inch over ravines & the night mists…
who will give colour to joe sacco’s black & white cartoons of goražde safe haven – & who will go there is it needed are the people safe? when will the mist shrouds on the mountains give up their secrets…
symbolic of our electrical impulse simple swift & filled with dreams fast flowing rivers sweep away all these tedious fears & expectations & dump them at a delta somewhere marry them with saltwater tears then disappear forever rivers flood the…
here the stencil art seems more restrained or better placed (my favourite so far a do the right thing image: chuck swastikas in the bin but then there’s the rifles silhouetted soldier slogans like ‘make your own world’ these meanings…
all the world’s a beograd restaurant & everybody’s smoking there before & during after dinner—no one stops to smell the air (which i guess is just as well it’s full of lead besides the noise) you’ve just got to write…
day broke inexorably over the sunshine cobbles over the old habsburg plaza over the electric trolley buses over the coffee grounds in the cup over the roma woman shooshed away over the music store over rat svetova over mikhail bulgakov;…
For Keiji (again), I compose a few lines. It’s useless. Iíll never be a haiku writer. My destiny lies amid the Cyrillic paperbacks, apartment blocks & spines of books Iíll never read or pay to have published. If we are…
the hotel bedsprings creak with her free rhythm haiku – it is morning it is night this weekend in sofia thousands of people are making love wearing out the beds the floors the sheets the sounds of lovers penetrate thick…