2 Flies


The flies are angry bits of life;
why are they so angry?
it seems they want more,
it seems almost as if they
are angry
that they are flies;
it is not my fault;
I sit in the room
with them
and they taunt me
with their agony;
it is as if they were
loose chunks of soul
left out of somewhere;
I try to read a paper
but they will not let me
be;
one seems to go in half-circles
high along the wall,
throwing a miserable sound
upon my head;
the other one, the smaller one
stays near and teases my hand,
saying nothing,
rising, dropping
crawling near;
what god puts these
lost things upon me?
other men suffer dictates of
empire, tragic love…
I suffer
insects…
I wave at the little one
which only seems to revive
his impulse to challenge:
he circles swifter,
nearer, even making
a fly-sound,
and one above
catching a sense of the new
whirling, he too, in excitement,
speeds his flight,
drops down suddenly
in a cuff of noise
and they join
in circling my hand,
strumming the base
of the lampshade
until some man-thing
in me
will take no more
unholiness
and I strike
with the rolled-up-paper -
missing! -
striking,
striking,
they break in discord,
some message lost between them,
and I get the big one
first, and he kicks on his back
flicking his legs
like an angry whore,
and I come down again
with my paper club
and he is a smear
of fly-ugliness;
the little one circles high
now, quiet and swift,
almost invisible;
he does not come near
my hand again;
he is tamed and
inaccessible; I leave
him be, he leaves me
be;
the paper, of course,
is ruined;
something has happened,
something has soiled my
day,
sometimes it does not
take man
or a woman,
only something alive;
I sit and watch
the small one;
we are woven together
in the air
and the living;
it is late
for both of us.

Charles Bukowski.

Mer Habitus, mer fra malingfabrikken, flere paste-ups.

Utstilling i rette omgivelser


Hvordan skal en gatekunstutstilling være? Skal det være et rent lokale med hvite vegger hvor originalverker selges for femsifrede summer?

Eller skal det være i en nedlagt malingfabrikk hvor en gjeng vandaler bare har tatt seg inn og malt rett på veggene?

Svaret gir seg selv, og har du et eneste interessert ben i kroppen, tar du turen til Damsgårdsveien 57-59 (inngang på siden, eller der du måtte finne et hull). Der har nemlig JohnXC, Argus og Habitus tatt seg inn og malt vegger og tak, blant årevis med graffiti og forfall. Se opp for hullene i gulvet og glasskårene som er overalt.

I løpet av de neste ukene poster Mot Veggen dokumentasjon fra det som uten tvil er sommerens beste gatekunstutstilling i Bergen.