Yanni

Fine, but you're not going without a fight.

photograph by J.M. Garg

Ty Creepers Skeleton Beanie Baby, 2000

via flickr

Pingu Listening To Music Png

Genieve Figgis

Earlie Hudnall, Jr.  | Mama with Collard Greens, 2006

Source: sotheby’s.com

neptune.

Collection V&A

Belkis Ayón (1967-1999)

So first you pick your poison. Maybe it’s one of those nice ointments, But if you aren’t fancy, Maybe it’s a wormwood tea, Or a mugwort tea, Or a mushroom tea if you’re kinky like that. And you drink it all at once. You set the cuckoo clock ticking. And with each tick-tock, You go down further into yourself Like a musket ball being rammed into a gun. And you think, “this is bullshit,” But you do it anyway And when the clock screams “cuckoo,” Your soul comes out of your mouth In the form of a crow And you fly to the West. Your arms - Your arms twitch in every world - flapping - And your beak - because you have a beak - Barrels through dirt. Earth upon earth, down and down, Dirt flying Until you reach the Underworld, Where the sun is ever-setting And the skies are gray And the heavens are dotted with the roots of trees, Which shine like stars.