PROVOCULOS

Ryann S by Provoculos / February 2014

Ryann S by Provoculos / February 2014

-excerpt from Assault by Charles Bukowski-

pain walks through the shadows of this room. I can feel it in my arms, I can hear it rattling in my cheap air cooler.

I remember things and get up and walk about. I can’t stop walking from one edge of the room to the other. I was once a man content to be alone. now I have been broken open, everything has edges. they have me - crazed and trapped. they brought me out of myself. they are working on me. the onslaught is furious and relentless and without sound. the rivers spill over the dikes. the sun smells like burnt cheese. ten thousand faces on the boulevards. I live with creatures whose existence has nothing to do with mine. I keep walking about this room. I can hardly breathe. I have given my pain a name. I call it “Assault.”

“We have art in order not to die of the truth.” [Nietzsche] —– Maya Desnuda for Provoculos // Baltimore