What if the dog does not eat the bone but will be willing to hear the song?
Boom stomp boom
Boom stomp boom
crowds overflowing
Monte Cassino's tomb.
Like a dragon with many heads marching feet marching legs and first of all eyes in the heads, ears walking behind, capturing sounds, capturing moments, some are in joy, some are in doubt, trunks are euphoric and trunks regret.
Walking dogs and walking gods, marching hands and marching legs, walking, walking to let their lungs feel the wind and eyes see the sea ahead, these lungs would be enormous, if spread, and the beach is spotted with amber and bottles.
Running, kids, the crowd is picking seashells.
Life in its diversity is so colourful and vivid that it's hard to think what it is like in living.
Flowing in that river of events there was he, Wojciech Spring.
He too went over Monte Cassino to meet his friends, his kindred souls.
He walked to meet Kolibriado and Dogcat. He rolled the ball of his fate like a melon, like a huge bulky weight. Like a beetle rolling a ball of dung which is heavy, not hula-hoop light. A lead ball of worries he was faced to fight.
People don't know, massively accepting the weight of it all, that the fate's ball is having a ball, just like Muenchhausen's on film fired ball.
And he's off, lumbering up the Wilhelmian staircase, he's off suffering, rolling the ball.
He's off, and in for a warm welcome, a bottle of Blossom Hill will be opened for him in the refectory. He's off, climbing the floors, his back still at the door, as he sends a smile to Kolibriado's face, on the second floor already.
The aerial palace of the attic like a kingdom of the wind, here you can see the sea, face its under-surface, maybe a shark you'll see.
Too Wintry Warmthless when it's Winter, or too warm, the archaic radiator,
the broken hypocaust won’t do, on the balcony a statue of satyr with horns sawn-off.
The greeting ceremony has now begun, names are being called along with their emotional meanings,
Wojciech Spring's whistles sound like horns, steamers.
Tunes playing in the distance: boogie, Charlstone, italo disco,
playing all the music: noise, ambient – quite a mixture.
At that Wojciech Spring felt like a horse at the spring and would be keen to drink from the rosette of the spring but Dogcat came springing in.
His voice deep and heroic greeted Wojciech Spring, armour of striated muscles on his skeleton shining bright, gleaming in the light, though his drawers were rather worn out.
Smiling in knightly glory with smiles and laughter like bass strings provided for great lungs, the bellows of Michał's smiles.
He spared no praise to Spring,
but in his heart he knew that unflattering opinions of Spring had been circulating.
He did not speak of this, as in the courtly greeting it would be a useless thing.
And it seemed to Wojciech as if this was the beginning of a pornographic movie and he was to play the leading role, he enters, they say hello. He hands over his clothes to Michał and off dancing with Kolibriado… he goes... and this night is just beginning.
But how was it all a projection, and who knows if it was?
Probably only the omniscient narrator.
The protagonist presents the popular belief that he is the centre of the universe.
They entered and wine they began to drink.
Kolibriado, your marriage has broken up – and with whom, with Lion.
Lion was Kolibriado's husband.
Now Dogcat took his place in front of the TV of your body like a flight simulator – he's allowed to turn all the knobs though he is smaller than Lion.Yet how can rhubarb pie be compared to Viennese cheesecake. Matrimonies and stability – a trip to Venus together.
Isn't it an illusion? A pleasant thing it is, it is, but notforever as strawberry fields.
But it's not what they wanted to talk about. Because it was Zen Buddhism that interested them.
And not about the frail thread of marriage, even if it was a hawser, a plait.
But
how to kill the Ego!
How to kill the ego
My dear amigo!
The teachings of Jesus, the songs of Lennon
The teachings of Levinas and Lenin
Pelevin's novels
Trotsky's warnings and Freud
Who depths of the unconscious discovered
And wrote
Gestapo kann ich jedem empfehlen
how to kill the Ego!
How to kill the ego?
My dear amigo!
So let me say it again before I explain
Gestapo kann ich jedem empfehlen…
Geheim – secret, Sta – state
Po – police
Polis, Police, Polis
Kolibriado clitoris
Gestapo kann ich jedem empfehlen
It must be noted
the Ego has had us
chained down like prisoners for ages
So don't you repeat Good God Forbid!
for the ego's whim
comes straight from him
Gestapo kann ich jedem empfehlen
Is God a state without the ego?
or is it something else, amigo?
So let's look at the ego like Deleuze
So let's look at the ego, the bone, like dog does
So let's look at the ego, the penis, like Spring.
So let's look at the ego, though it's a tiring thing.
Excerpt from the novel “Roady”
translated by Michał Czarniecki
Audio interpretation by Sean Palmer
Music by MC Marazm
Produced by A. Slodownik