The Dark Angels are a come and go crew. They create then disappear like street art. Their works exist in fragments, particles that float, dust motes that spin before the wind that blows them to faraway places. They are individuals that work as one. Deep as oceans, as impenetrable as the night. Art urchins and poets, they dissolve before they form. They are the Dark Angels, they are discharge. They are a bloody mouthful.

Thursday, 3 January 2013

It's Never Art

Have you not HEARD?!

I have NEVER handed over the key
Your KEENING disrupts my


Sudden-



nothing

4 comments:

Russell Duffy said...

Not content with writing great prose/poetry you now are challenging the conventions of writing. You get better and better.

Shadow Lor said...

Would that make this avant-garde?



I've heard that's French for "unutterable bullshit"




~said with a smirk, I should think ;)

doriandra said...

a perfect non haiku - but even better..

Russell Duffy said...

No, this is BS free.