This issue revolves around the theme of circular movement. As an emblem, we consider the vortex to present the weight that exists within the pieces of this issue. But choosing a vortex was not just for its symbolism; it’s a pattern in every way.

To this day, I have yet to find a feeling comparable to the one that I get the moment the lights switch off, just before the start of a concert. Sometimes I’m downing sugar sachets (depending on how much strength I still have in me after hours—or days—of queueing)

Through the propriety
Of the gaps
Between you and the rooftops
A rhythm of emptiness

Distraction by distraction we live
in the daily aftermath
—– of the grand burlesque;
—– an ever diminishing step

They always fidget. I see them from a distance, two at a time usually, huddling like frozen blackbirds on a telephone line. Most of them past middle-aged but always men, always thinking themselves younger and thinner than midlife’s reckoned.

Given  each organism  as a biochemical  algorithm
Your life       is a programmed       process proving
——–Your consciousness   is actually far less
Valuable       than a fucking       Frankenstein’s AI

Hope is faster than light,
its speed beyond measure.
It’s alive, today, but what about
tomorrow? Easy come, easy…

The technician who curates this capsule
in her cameo as the ground station
engineer, asks if country music
would be ok to play over the headphones,

If you call, you’ll get my machine.
If I’m not in the bath soaking aches,
matching wits with a wily crossword compiler
or on the loo revising wasted days

We all know it’s a flat country,
but far South-East Amsterdam
is so flat, low and expectant,
like a work table, I get curious.

What was it again?
The stories from the back of the room
no longer silent. The slight person standing
had that pearlescent skin, wet stone