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Reduced Section Miracles and other homemade prophecies


A list of rational observations that would have my nan spinning in her grave like a kebab

My personal brand of sainthood implies preaching to the masses:

"Thou shalt only be mean behind my back!"


Eye-rolling is either national sport or official religion.


The few girlies who had the misfortune to be canonized are often painted with eyes rolling,

the white of their eyes ticket to virtue.

In countries where hatred is written into the constitution, I'll roll my joint extra sloppy so at least my spit could touch your mouth.


The number of saints you get to spin into their graves is directly proportional with your own unique number of modern moral virtue points.

If you look closely at the holy bones in the display case, you may notice a bright yellow reduced section sticker for the miracle you seek!

Modern leprosy cured at a discounted price! Or so your nan's neighbour claims.


Rolling your eyes with enough gusto during one's lifetime will grant you special access to a sarcastic crucifixion on judgement day!



Saturday Market


Virtuously bad at money,

I undersell my soul on a regular basis.

This Saturday at the farmer's market

I'll sell my liver for a fiver.

Bargain of the day!

Sell one lung for

2 joints worth of city scum sativa (tenner)

Bargain of the month!

The eyes though,

That's where I have to draw some sort of line.

One eye for one month's rent

Maybe two if I'm feeling particularly

Entrepreneurial that day.

At the neighbouring stall

My best friend is asking for

For her tongue.

Fair play! (fair play!)

With my one remaining Eastern European lung

I'll shout for my wares,

Shout for hers,

Shout for all our friends around us,

Grotesque ensemble of entrepreneurs!


When the rats and the weeds finally conquer Camberwell Green

I hope they’re merciful and fair

or at least have a soft spot for the tender hearted.



I am the three primary colours


I swear it's not a metaphor,

just where I was born

I turn my head towards my childhood

like slightly unsettled commuters on the bus

when someone starts shouting at the driver.

There will be no action taken here!

I've become a Londoner through my ability

to throw my gaze into the floor

Do not drag me into your shenanigans, stranger!

I repeat,

Do not drag me!

Shenanigans are for me and my lover only to bond over.

Do not look over my shoulder,

as I underline lines with my fingernail.

I never have a pen on me,

I never have it in me to wake you up in the middle of the night

when I've been sick into the sink

Metoclopramide

peppermint tea

and hoping the nausea is spiritual only

this time.

The dehydration will hit tomorrow

and feel like a hangover

and I would've felt like I lived my 20s right.


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IRINA ANGHEL is a Romanian interdisciplinary artist, with focus on theatre, mixed media visual arts, poetry, and a serious case of indecisiveness. After graduating with a BA in World Performance from East 15 Acting School, Irina has been exploring themes such as immigration, diaspora, folklore and identity politics within different spheres of cultural and national identity. Irina is currently based in London. More info on upcoming work: @irina.angh on Instagram.



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