Esto Zoológico:

I was close to tapping out before I met you.

It was like I left my zebra stripes at home everyday to go to work at the hospice centre.

Watching my flesh submit to complex machinery dedicated to oxygen and quantitative measurements of the heart.

Living in streets lined with machine guns and lost desires.

Is this destiny or straight-up insanity?

Could two brothers believe in the truth of synchronicity?

In the importance of ecology.

In conquering the world.

Did the universe literally need to split my head in two for me to pay attention?

When you’re in an erratic state, it becomes necessary to use facts to navigate the world.

Life becomes an algorithmic ballet of truths and survival mechanisms.

Yet there’s something more at stake here, the chance to be vulnerable again...

The truth; I didn’t travel the entire world to get lost in nostalgia.

The truth truth; I’m still scared that the world will eat me alive for my soft heart and open mind.

If I told you lights of Shanghai would illuminate your soul, would you believe me?

If I told you the poverty of India would break your appetite forever, would you believe me?

Are we egotists or messengers?

Are we pioneers or thieves?

Are we botanists or firefighters?

Only the victors have the honor to mold the world.

-Austin James
- Samuel Walter Keller

Butoh 2.0

Have you slept my dear?

Have you runned yourself down again?

Have you been sleeping in the alley next to the ice cream store again?

Are your limbs painted with cheap ink yet?

Mirroring the hyenas with blood on their mouths?

Are you the scavenger you say you are?

Or are you the atomic destiny I beckoned for?

The family I’ve forgotten.

The fast life I swore to leave behind?

As you see child, we are culture of war.

Contorting ourselves to a Samba of nuclear prolificity.

And yet, there you are, plain as day.

In love with the air you breathe and the nuances of the leaves.

-Austin James


I have conquered the world.

Tokyo, Chicago, Jakarta, Sudan.

Yet, you make shake…

And there you are again.

In echos of friends.

In passing of muted emotions.

Again and again.

So elementary.

Like a metronome.

Like an ever dripping faucet.

I can feel that magnetic pull towards you and I.

The one where distance and time begin to bend.

And I swear, it’s not just the chronic chatter of my mind this time.

It’s the something deeper, something more intrinsic.

Like the call, to identify every star in the sky.

-Austin James


I’m on fire like the Amazon.
Burning with passion of what’s left of me in this world.
Sparring with the nature of humanity and the crescent lune of the symmetry before my eyes..

There’s a brilliance to this decay.
Like the fall leaves, I feel like I’m disintegrating while walking into the night.
Becoming a shadow in this architecture of city lights and LED screens.
Turning into the vapor I exhale and the tragedy I witness.

The Amazon is on fire.
The markets are crashing.
The space trash is accumulating.
Yet, in the wake of it all;
I can only recall your soft embrace.

-Austin James


I forgot how to care until you came into my focus.

Life was becoming more and more like a printing press.

A blur of paper money mesmerizing before my eyes, and the chronic sound of machinery beckoning to meet it’s next deadline.

There’s something worse than numb; blind and numb.

I saw a blind person smelling flowers the other day. It was an incredible testament to life.

The exoticism of the color was lost on him. The coordination of the ecology before him was beyond his description.

Yet, his olfactory receptors made the simplest impression on me.

I’m excited to use my senses again.

-Austin James


Poor child, I saw destiny painted on your skin and I wanted to scrape it right off of you.

It was evident as zebra stripes, or Amazonian rainforest frogs.

I’d love to hide this cruel world behind your facade of love and cherry blossoms.

Distract you with digital smoke and mirrors as you are yet to understand the tidal wave you are becoming.

Yet, fate, fate has marked you. Like baby viper markings or freshly painted war planes.

There’s an equation in this world that turns the softest people into the most industrial steel.

Yet, no one warns you that the chemical reaction taking place inside you is as violent as the Earth moving against itself.

Emotion. Emotionless. Emotion. Emotionless.

-Austin James