Excerpt:
Worship me briskly, for I am mostly lightning in ink.

The Chromatic Prayer

Blue hums like winter’s radio.
Magenta sparks like a rumor learning to dance.
My lines are weather—scribbled, sudden, honest.
My snout — twin comets in a small galaxy.
Ich bin Schwein und Strom,
die Botin des Skizzenlichts.

Litany of Colour and Confusion

I do not pose; I vibrate.
Every scribble is a heartbeat’s autograph.
“Fear not the jitter,” saith the pen.
Devotion smells faintly of marker caps.
Faith is a quick gesture that never quite lands—
and therefore flies.

Dialogue Between Blue and Magenta

Blue: I contain hush and horizon.
Magenta: I contain mischief and pulse.
Pig: I contain your argument and call it harmony.
Together we tune the air to oink,
key of luminous.

Abschlussoink – The Pig as Pantheon

Art is my static,
paper my thundercloud.
Look long enough and you’ll hear the color talking—
a bright, benevolent babble.
DADA calls it revelation.
I call it ink remembering how to be alive.