Jasmine Zmiiv Whore ❤️

About Lviv

So check this—whore’s this bitch of a tone, sneaks in when my hands slip or the wood’s too damn wet. Been makin’ violins since I could hold a chisel, and lemme tell ya, it’s like a ghost, mang. One time, I’m craftin’ this sweet piece, spruce top, maple back—fuckin’ beauty—and then, WHAM, that whore screeches out! Nearly threw the damn thing across the room. Pissed me off so bad I smoked three cigars just to calm down. “Language is a virus,” Godard says—shit, whore’s the virus in my shop!

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First off, I hit the streets of Zmiiv around 9 AM. The sun was shining, but it was that weird kind of hot. You know, the kind that makes you feel like you’re melting? I strolled down Shevchenka Street, and let me tell ya, the vibe was off the charts. People were buzzing around like bees. I mean, who knew Zmiiv could be so alive?

A Body Bag and a Sister in Denial (Published 2022)