Daniel Y. Harris and J. Mulcahy-King
from Licentiam


cobbled face, more scar than pore, a head floating in the shadows, lithely gyrating to an imaginary tune, some old junkanoo ceremonial, salt candles burn darkly, indigenous chanting chancing ghosts, how did we get here, urban refugees stuck like characters in a video game, unable to breach the limits of our reality, left to fight it out among ourselves, post-disaster scenes idling in western real-time, pornwares, doxx drip mole and sweat pulque, rarĂ¡muri balance interests