Archibald Blondinet

Surrealist artist & writer


Cuddling oviparous

  • Cuddling oviparous

    Spineless fakirs in the rear-view mirror throw wet kisses to trampolines on duty—we’re missing something gore to chew on, some nuts to scribble on. Welcome the wasteful destiny of slow-moving aspirins and impolite hedgehogs aiming at skittles with too few fragrances. Demand a new partition now, before the mule is blended with a fully grown…

  • Black vapour

    Impermeable to the persistent nag of the sprinkler ban, the naughty boiler lets off steam to bolster the eye shadow of the moon. Unrolling the liquorice, the black goddess of twisted palates glides politely towards the honed vanishing point. Zero to nought in the blink of a flashlight, encrusted in the metaphysics of endless permutations,…

  • Moth-like symphony

    Plenty of pearls but no harbour, so it’s no longer a lemon-scented feast for the gents. Put your zoot suit back in the refrigerator; you’re next to gargle with a gallon of moth-like gelato. All of it for the chills sent down your vertebrae anonymously. Be courteous and return the ice-cold greetings with a shiver…

Spineless fakirs in the rear-view mirror throw wet kisses to trampolines on duty—we’re missing something gore to chew on, some nuts to scribble on. Welcome the wasteful destiny of slow-moving aspirins and impolite hedgehogs aiming at skittles with too few fragrances. Demand a new partition now, before the mule is blended with a fully grown matador under the pale moon and its agnostic surveillance of holistic residues. Spearhead a new age of wrestling in a noise-cancelling reservoir invaded by the rowdiest of singletons, clicking their fingers to the rumble of their empty bellies. Choose a smile, as horrid as it may be; the cuddling oviparous will continue to live in denial.