An Elegiac Response to the Ghost of Surrealist Decadence in the Work of Paul Kooiker

By Brad Feuerhelm

Paul Kooiker

This is where our shared habits meet concrete. All the possessions accumulated, obsessions sought and tendered in the infernal light of my psychic affairs have led me into the unforeseen garden of these earthly delights. I sit with primordial kith and kin between alabaster pillars of flesh, inscribing my DNA in the reckless ash gathering on my trousers or ground under my heel. A soft haze fills the room and in the background I count the clucking sounds from various aviary offspring and also that of obtuse primate shrieking in the menagerie of my mind.

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