untitled

LARS BRINK

Apr. 2012

 

A soft vibrating bouncy castle in the distance. I tumble in its fumes.

The smells of toys and sulfur, smoke machine and laser.

I look inside. I see nothing. It crackles from the hot crystals

and around fly small pellets of neon.

 

With a giant step you take off in a reality

You take set and fly

Bouncing on your associations

and you float

in to another