Message in a bottle

Come and get me. There are no beautiful girls here. Might as well break the hands of the church tower clock, because this village is dead. Someone says: ’Lieske is 86 and can still pass a thread through the eye of a needle without spectacles.’ Come and get me. The people in the cemetery all have the same surname. Come and get me. I want to see my name on a billboard in New York. I want to go to rehab when I’m a star. I spit on blooming cornfields and pheasants. Yesterday, I put a bullet through a beaver’s head. And I admit to lighting those two fires. I have the eyes of a bull. Come and get me.

Text © Pascal Panis