"Soldier, try to keep an eye
on that old woman, she is
walking on such agile
feet beneath these immense
plastic replicas of trees and
between the ugly grotesque
overbearing sculptures in
this absurdist garden filled
with mechanized spinning
fragrance-free flowers..."

"Yes, Sir. I will do that.
Her eyes always have that
faraway haunted look, black
and too blazing bright behind
her humanesque mask, and we also
notice that while wandering
here in this toxic atmosphere
she often smiles and sighs,
and we have recorded her
whispering that some days
she cries and feels strangely
nostalgic for her late friend
Mr. Fabulous Fake Picasso
and his priceless paintings of
good men standing around
doing nothing."

06/02/2018