Novi Sad, 2003; während ein theater Festival, Helen sitzt für eine Stunde zwischen Französich und Serbisch, was sie beide nicht versteht, und schreibt was sie hört: Frenglerbski.
The voyage, the casualties, Shakespeare. Tres dificile. Promise me pleasure. Yes m’am, ja sam, festivale. I only do sta ne znam. In the broom closet, the china, Leit Motiv, a china cup, koe, koe, the selector, fuck, he’s Scottish, koru koru. Maximale rationale, naked policemen. Rudimental. It’s cheap & easy. Not only that, theatre. Schnitsel for tea. I pa, obsolete. Kada, jedina, ista, jesta, posta, round the nuts. I would like that, said the preacher to the professor. A bit. Please, animals, take longer. Your story ends. He packs sweat, in a moment lay down in a row, on your back, near to the creature. Tai chi. It’s possible. Just say it. It’s for poets. Spaci mi. Gratko. I’m an intellectual, but I’m interesting. The tone of literature. It’s art if we say it is. Mesopotamia, pretty granny. At the post office, spraying banners, you promised. Serbia, Serbia, Serbia. It’s bigger, no? Pa da. It’s vicious. The sun, Voyvodina, shesht, navoda, multi-cultural, multi-lingual, historically nashto, civic, drugi, to malo grado, predicate, predict. Your breasts are small. Borgemoi. Parachute. Knego. Promise me every day. Photographs of Simon, yellow and silver. Hvala, hvala. A little present for you. Ask him now. The study. Three kisses, eh, bravo, hvala, choice. No problem.
