all words and artwork, ©Derek Collins. If you would like to get in touch with Derek, please email us.

I ain’t sure if this makes sense… but I reckon “sense” is a commodity I bartered long long many moons time ago…

Am  a  epileptic ex-junkie word wranglin’
music manglin’ monad…
presentin’ these pictorial pustules…a pair of perfidious polyps
pre-thought, post-human
funnelled through the cold slops of
a broken soul
bolstered + procured by profound
isolation I place my gifts upon yr altar
all my futile generosities, straight from the
id, tremblin’ n naked on the barren shores of a post-addictive alienated consciousness…

image 1: the symptom pool

“the Terrible Mother, the vagina dentata, the Fury, Lilith, Justine the Hag, Babylon the castrating harlot, The Venusian conspiracy…”

image 2: the girl who lived on heaven hill 

“the Great Mother, the nurturing anima, The Madonna, The daughters of the heart, Christabel, Juliette, The Yin, La Femme…”

d+sea the otherorganism awaits…

I walk on mirrored angles
broken light insists
I must cross these frozen borders
and upon strange circuits
they melt but persist…