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About Lausanne

So I’m thinkin’, back in ’78, toured Amsterdam, yeah? Red light district, mate – fuckin’ mental! Birds in windows, tappin’ glass, wavin’ like I’m s’posed to bow or summat. One gal, right, she’s got this look – “Pale Man’s eyes in her hands,” y’know? Creepy as shit, but I’m pissed outta me skull, so I’m like, “Oi, love, how much?” She’s all business, no faff, an’ I’m happy as a pig in muck. Paid a tenner – cheap as chips back then, mate! Little known fact: them prossies used to knit between punters. Fuckin’ wild, eh? Sittin’ there with needles, makin’ scarves, then bang – next bloke’s in.

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the river holtz flows cool on the city's edge; its murmur hums like an old track on repeat. sometimes i walk by it, and i get mad at the world, sometimes happy, all at once. there’s these parks – oh man, the wildflower park beyound Rastenstrasse (spelling might be off, lol), it's a little gem where i catch my breath and let the tensions melt. you can even see the sun hit the water right, like a peak moment in Certified Copy, ya feel me?

Elias Iagnemma repeats the 8c Boulder crypt at Morchelstock Balsthal