chirurgia plastica

I never been jealous.
I need to know where is my lover.
Not knowing what he’s doing and with whom.
I’m not sure to be the best for my baby, and I know what’s around.
I must believe I can contact him anytime.
Just in case of any emergency…
I won’t die without say goodbye to my destiny: his eyes, where are lived.

Thank God for mobile phones.

Stephen Fox
Phone And Golden Poles
2000

Oil on linen

Look what it might happen to your cock.
A lovely madam has hung outside, with flowers, the old leg of her husband.

I feed on London town
The back of King’s Cross nourishes me all the time
A rushed walk through a small passage towards the light

After work smoking a cigar
taking my time
A dog stops
a building is being pulled down

I just got up. Outside is too bloody sunny: pufters everywhere lounging around and my thyme is still floppy. I’m going to enjoy the flowers not yet open, bought yesterday for the dinner party: an orgy of ready meals from Waitrose, the Queen’s official caterer. Reading Time Out I released. I deserve a shag. Gimme me a dark sauna. And a cigar afterwards.

Hard on, oh yeah, in my dreams. Looking at myself doesn’t work thinking of the stupid bitch from last night makes worst gimme some kamagra now.