"Who's there, my God, who's there?" Lubomír Tomik Ernest Hemingway knocked out a phone booth, it was only afternoon, guy in an old STB secret police coat with a leather bag and an injured spine entered a roundabout, the cars stopped indecisively and the drivers didn't know what to do, the guy in the orange overalls was walking on the railway embankment, for a moment he even seemed to be able to control the tracks and sleepers but then he looked at the track in front of him he stared until his eyeballs fell out and on the gleaming tracks they rolled toward the unknown, head to all the tattoo ink, Ernest Hemingway knocked out a phone booth, the handset fell to the ground, coins spilled, on the other side of the line was Ema Destin and she cried : ,, Who is there, O God, O God, who is there? "
The sullen man. Lubomír Tomik Before he lay down under the sign No. 😯 called some Reynolds the soul was winking and was almost on the edge before he lay down under the sign No. 😯
And here it is, he thought. Lubomír Tomik And here it is he thought, it was like a whiplash, creaking skin, blinding light, the bow passes over the remnants of the silhouettes of the pig casings Her hips curl, she tasted all that, young heart, young with a gnaw of darkness. And here it is he thought, it's here and he felt her teeth pierce his flesh.
Dnes speciálně pro Tebe, ať údery boxovací rukavice , které zazní, úplně napadrť rozbijí Tvou nemoc.
Completely attack. Lubomír Tomik under the blows of hands tearing me to pieces stomachs broken gushing vermilion in the palms of the wreckage of the eyes completely attack.
Boiler full of necks. Lubomír Tomik the boiler full of throats overflows and the characters as from Durer's woodcut, they disappear and appear above the surface of the saddled goulash of blood, wooden spoon disappears somewhere in the clouds feet appear the image is suddenly colored, is red, smudges of green, black to brown full of movement and lamentation: Halving a bull in a poppy field.
jUst anoTHER fix. lubomír tomik sleePing powdEr théNarDier has his pockets full lobsters whine softly they smile eccentRically rhythmicAlly padded cell next to the room it looks unusual in her eyes he spent five minutes viGorously in china than he lived ONly the life of cats before there are one more of us he stares into his eyes and they removed the skin from the headless hull grotesque performance he is one of those priests you had to put it on. a guy driving in the fog across an abyss behind igraine scattering from the cloak letters of the alphabet.
Happy birthday Floor, my Teacher, my Queen.
There is always time for a kiss, Lulu thought. Lubomír Tomik And so she twisted her ass in the slow rhythm of the music, rippled hips, but it was useless, the bar was empty. She reached into her back pocket and found, she didn't even have any money.
It really happened … only the music was different … I don’t know what was playing when I was there … but the sadness in the tones of the accordion is accurate.
Between the graves. Lubomír Tomik Between the graves you can smell cologne, -Hi Your feets!- I smile, between the graves you can smell cologne, the heart bursts under the onslaught of baits,tits,etc, paperback, between the graves you can smell cologne several african american guys leaning on a tree in the hot heat, goes through a ghetto somewhere in Ostrava opens the door you're there, you are naked and you are lying on the table as if nothing was happening. Then you just say: -You do five things at once. You have to concentrate.-