The Tradition Of The Oppressed

For What Is The Program Of The Bourgeois Parties? A Bad Poem On Springtime, Filled To Bursting With Metaphors.

Less And Less Frequently Do We Encounter People With The Ability To Tell A Tale Properly. More And More Often There Is Embarrassment All Around When The Wish To Hear A Story Is Expressed. It Is As If Something That Seemed Inalienable To Us, The Securest Among Our Possessions, Were Taken From Us: The Ability To Exchange Our Experiences...experience Has Fallen In Value. And It Looks As If It Is Continuing To Fall Into Bottomlessness.

We Have Long Forgotten The Ritual By Which The House Of Our Life Was Erected. But When It Is Under Assault And Enemy Bombs Are Already Taking Their Toll, What Enervated, Perverse Antiquities Do They Not Lay Bare In The Foundations.

I Would Like To Metamorphose Into A Mouse-mountain.

All Great Works Of Literature Either Dissolve A Genre Or Invent One.