art mécanik
motel murders


18- La vie est 6 fois plus légère sur la lune.


Life is six times less heavy on the moon. Burn the fake green plastic lawn, rip open the blue plastic swimming pool, and free the invisible whales inside you. America is a suburb of history, a used condom, a land of bastard and whores with a 100 dollar bill stuck in the nose. Do not mistake a fat police man with a starving killer whale. The ocean is to small to let me in, I bleed lipstick. 9 volts, 8 second to die, 7 heavens, 6 bullets, 5 side dice, 4 motel room, 3 way street 2 lovers and 1 bomb. Suck the poison out, your lips are warm snakes, your skin is an overdose, and we come back we come back. The moon is six times lighter than my soul. Feed the goldfishes with my eyelash, fields are bootlegs of your skin, even the sun smells like you. The moon doesn’t turn, it keeps an eye looking under your skirt. It will never roll on me. Silence and black emptiness between us, space age is too cold to stay alone in winter bed, I sleep on an ice comet, silence detonates like a bomb, love expands like the universe. I am the big bang. The suns shoots up in my arm, sunsets are happy heroin. I stand at the top of a needle, I am the big bang and the sun is warm. And you are the bullet.