bottle tops

I collect bottle tops - flat rusted bottle tops and i use them in my collages a lot. At the moment I'm saving them for two distinct projects. The first a collage called 'The Ninety-nine Virgins' I have enough tops for this but I don't, as yet, have the menstrual blood of a virgin and this is proving to be difficult to obtain. I'm curious about this - it suggests to me the old taboos are closer to the surface of our modern lives than we might think. So instead of the collage I want to make I have a journal of how I cant make it.
The second is a hanging I want to construct using my bottle tops and fresh water pearls. I don't have enough tops yet for this project and already see problems in its construction. if I link bottle tops and pearls to construct the fabric it will only be as strong as the top layer of joints - it will fall. perhaps the falling is part of the project and this is an installation rather than just a collage. I'm thinking it still.

Anyway, and here we get to the point of this post, I was thinking as I was harvesting bottle tops from the local parking building where kids sit and drink and talk and smoke - thinking of the disapproval I often collect along with the things I harvest - the flotsam and jetsam of city life. that what I am doing is dirty and places me in danger of contamination from the dirt. I am in danger of becoming sick from this dirt it seems.

My thought today as I was eyed sideways by a passing local bourgeoisie I can poison my mind with senseless violence against women and children on the local television station, I can poison my body eating the flesh of animals raised in filth and killed in pain and torture but I cant collect bottle tops and things from the pavements of my local environs BECAUSE THIS MIGHT MAKE ME SICK!
please............................................

another haiku

This one is more difficult.
I respond to the work of Albert Tucker in a very visceral way - especially I like his Images of Modern Evil series and the relationships between men, the men they believe have taken women they believe they are entitled to and the women who stand between them.
In many ways its the essence of colonisation!

Haiku for Tucker
smooth girls, laughing bright
slut, slag, fuck - we hard pricks all -
slaves to the warmen.

http://www.theblurb.com.au/Issue03/TuckerBio.htm

new haiku

Ive recently discovered my muse to be male - and curiously he turns up in my dreams a lot when I need to be writing.
This morning I woke at 5am, opened my journal and wrote this:

haiku for my muse
wine on the table
broken pen tip - crumbled sheets
bastard muse - come back!