LET THE BLOOD COME OUT TO SHOW THEM [VOL. 4]

Women’s dorms:
No
one
showers on her own.
One body,
eight organs,
that shower together,
that eat together,
that sleep together,
always together.
Soaping each other – till the milky foam drips,
washing each other – the always-cold water,
hands in each other’s plates – hands in each other’s pants.
In the freezing nights,
under the eucalyptus’ dracula-finger leaves

LET THE BLOOD COME OUT TO SHOW THEM [VOL. 3]

…and they hug tightly, as they both understand that she has brought them to where the summer is celebrating its best days, where all is euphoria, where everybody is moving, living, crashing into each other in the air like dizzy bugs in love, grass and water and marmalade, and the water shimmers in the evening sun, and along the water line, a group of heavyweight boxers with colourful sport bras are running and singing together to the common rhythm of their feet, and with every planting of their huge feet on the ground, the ground shakes a little, and the trees tremble a little, and the birds above them panic a little, spreading all around them and creating astounding shapes of birds in the sky

LET THE BLOOD COME OUT TO SHOW THEM [VOL. 1]

The black smoke clouds above the city-
tweeting,
posting,
reporting on the disaster
to all of those who escaped on time.
The city is burning, and we are standing all around.

Jerusalem
Jerusalem
Jerusalem
burns on fire.
Jerusalem burns out
with fire.

Now she’s dead,
and you are dead,
lying naked in the streets,
and Jerusalem is on fire.

The democrats were defeated,
and all the football teams are out of the league.
Jerusalem is on fire.

Shout,
shout,
call her name: