The Repentant in Berlin

Poetry is Dangerous 2010
A special broadcast to the Poetry Is Dangerous exhibition in Berlin curated by Karen Margolis and Thomas Schliesser. THE REPENTANT is a soundscape by Inga Tillere with text by Johny Brown, signals from James S Finn and a smattering of vintage germanic electro neon dusted disco.



For thirty-five years now the party has raged. Thirty-five years of popping ingesting snorting fucking blowing drinking dancing diving skiving striving to get higher, higher, higher all the time any time every time until…

My breath is full of pain and stinks of evil and misery. I walk around town and the people recoil. Believe this… I am like some unclean beast of the street. I am thrown out of shops. I am not allowed on public transport. Fellow street-habituees step aside and move to neighbouring benches, other parks, different areas, far flung towns.

The police refuse to arrest me. Municipal vans arrive to hose me down once a week and tourists gather to take souvenir photos. Students of filth and decay descend to prepare dissertations. Folk of good concern make protest. I am a monster. How did it get to this?

How did my blood become so thick it clots up and blackens like some foul night of death? When did I begin smelling like the sewer? Why does even the sewer avoid my company these days? My bones ache they have become so brittle and knotted. They break so easily, should I crush one for you now so you can see how flimsy they are?

My flesh is… Look here it is for the world to see… my dying skin, rotting and putrefying, with scabs and boils that are an affront to all who look at them, as I stagger to the centre of town, scratching, scratching, scratching… Scraping my balls trying to get to the bowels that are filled to the brim with the abominations of filth, real pus filled streams of decay oozing and seeping into my pants where the worms and other living things thrive.

Regardless I have the fire in my belly now and nothing will stop me there is no turning back. And all the useless shit we consume. And all the oil and ozone we burned to make it. You clamour now to save the planet. But I say this… maybe the planet will do ok without us. Maybe the planet is going to be fine. Maybe the planet doesn’t need our saving. Maybe this planet can get as polluted with as many chemicals as it can ingest. Maybe the planet will continue in all its very mutations. Does it matter? Not to me. What matters to me… and what I think it all boils down to… at the end our days, having lived through all our ways, and with the memories that have stayed, deep down inside, what matters to me, surely, is how we treat each other.


One Response to The Repentant in Berlin

  1. cb says:

    delightful broadcast to Berlin – truely a joy – thanks c x