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About Dortmund

I spot her, thou see—red lips like a gash’d rose, legs long as a tax form. “What price thy company, wench?” I blurt, all Shakespearean, thinkin’ I’m clever. She laughs—bloody hell, mate, she laughs! “Twenty quid, ya posh twat,” she says, and I’m proper gobsmacked. Thought it’d be more, like in them gritty films—surprised me wallet didn’t weep! “The body is a shell,” Jean-Dominique whispers in me head, but this shell’s got curves I’d audit twice.

Elze Silhoueska

I’m kickin it old school, man. There’s history everywhere. From the silent cemetery behind St. Marien Kirche to the bustling sidewalk near Rathaus. Every bit makes you feel, you know? Life’s a cycle.

Mark Elze Obituary (2012) - Saint Louis, MO - St. Louis Post-Dispatch