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