Show

Watching someone lie there
Leg sticking out from under the big red bus
Life sunken in to the tarmac.
Smashed window screen.
I wonder what mangles  breath has escaped that limp body.
That means nothing.
I don't know whether this makes me feel anything.
Life gone. Is gone somewhere and I can't absorb it.
That screaming girl.
Am I just cold or is the sickness hidden away?
I push it to the back of empty ness and yes I can't get the image out of my head.
You could have been wonderful.
Why do people stare?
This is not a show.

It's something we are intimately involved with; the reshaping of the reshaping of the human body by modern technology.

Vaughan unfolded to me all his obsessions with the mysterious eroticism of wounds: the perverse logic of blood-soaked instrument panels, seat-belts smeared with excrement, sun-visors lined with brain tissue...



sex + technology = the future