Nin, Kenji Siratori

***my existence_gloomy the fuck image born to the face of punx and your shadow and a fiction and and into the light that changes the angle and plug on the surface of storage_disappears that, hatred invading with the angle that was break down from the opening of the skin of punx that cracked as stretch the nest of a spider and caused to attach I trace the relation of the muscle that strained under the surface (I_disappears into all the scenery that are caught on the edge of the eye and be recognized as a dim image and made the outline of nonexistent by strong light in no time), was broken and goes the nose that has case to the lips, once when have a sexy inclination mystery!?

***ghost of hakenkreuz bedaubs the face raise the groan voice of hatred and dance the dance of death blackly and with a pale inclination from the bone set that punx was break down and the hammer, black shade collector an eddy, the ghost that is sunk to the cloud that decayed and wound on the head from the anvil and became cloudy....upper half of the
body plain punx cuts the key cross on the wall that and make the hole with the fist of self....is able to apply to the heat, ungood feeling that did with what more to be seen from the eye that leaned and observed hetero and I jump and get up and to the reality that 150 tons of pressure wait.

***eye that was dipped in the atrocity with a terrible angle from the inclination
that was break down:causes drifted the atmosphere of the violence that cracked that and the face that cries out with the body of that blood is spouting continually from the wound that opened sucking and chop up the during body with the tear strip of glass and be blood and wore the negative pale frightening of, swastika bends backward and irradiate the geometrical
pattern that is not able to calculate on street and the X-rays, all of civilization become transparent....

***we are facing to slow death in the revolution that did with slowly, while resounding the absent-minded decay that the tower of babel inclined with the back of, my throat and sensing the ghost that pale X-rays flows out from my eye that poses was yet, only that punx that became cloudy turn the eye that did with what more here and commit 4.5 year-old kids and my soul lost flesh without observing to be able to read to the disquieting noise of TV and begins to overflow.

The Time of the Naguals