At the Threshold of Liquid Geology… An extraordinary book, an ongoing and interconnected prose work, in several sections, as if written “out of the blue” one fine evening after dark.



With the burning of the ark, the newly freed animals began to eat the mannequin body part protoplasm as well as the embedded sea urchins that had protected them from the malevolent probing of past starfish fossils that were now transformed into quaint, wooden museum pieces – now a rather harmless version of an earlier virulent terror.

The compass dial made a quarter turn, and then everything returned to normal. Or had it? The pipes remained in their respective shower stalls, with incoming beams of sunlight playing across their white-painted surfaces, every now and then revealing the red dial of plumbing telepathy, yet the pipes remained where they had been installed, with their geletin neurological coatings, and yet coyotes had infiltrated the shower complex, investigating the creations of men that had vanished a long time ago.
Despite the presence of the coyotes, the white pipes remained unscathed and they still communicated with each other.