Angel Doberman














Everything I Have Ever Downloaded I Have Used Once
Angel Doberman

yes I’m on the brink of bankruptcy, But
i’m not indolent, I’m just
wholeheartedly reticent

follow me, it’s a bit of a walk, Like
Aesthetically. it’s not even five. You are
hard, im sampling a book of cocktails. Am i
a ‘Brazen Hussy’ tonight or
Should I become Danieli? is it
a question of Cointreau over
2 dashes of Campari? Every time
I think of him I
think of fried potatoes – Since
the night he left.


There is
a vodka cocktail named
Bloodshot; key ingredient 60ml Beef
stock. I don’t want anything containing
Banana Liqueur. It has
something to do with
the letter for Bolshoi, bvlgari, bacon chips

A Campari is more-or-less a Danieli.


you can feel it in
The air. People are on edge I’m
the champagne at the back of
your neighbour’s fridge You are
an Instagram filter
until proven otherwise. We’re like
a thing now I’m entering a
cord en bleu stage They say
you cannot help us A
storm is coming All
the years that came before erode like
two severed and buried thumbs. It was
different then. I have taken a photo of
the sun setting My thigh
a blurred nasty focal point You
headfirst in the collapsing waves. Glass is
the slowest moving element of liquid As is
Your blood. I have
never been your condiment even
in thought, smoke
takes form.


Digesting yes or Dieting; Quasi-
Dying in downtown negligés. Previously requiring
dress rehearsal at noon. You see me on
a bumper-sticker in my
bi-annual absence. I’ve become
the face of engine cleaner i still purchase
A special silk number.


The languor of evening life Drew me
to the corner, step after step, to the wall outside
A hypothetical social circle turned literal when
the entire assortment of figures, names
gathered and swarmed A collective second stomach of
sugary entitlement – rosé, pinkish fizz
—whatever makes them brazen in
ad-hoc faux-suede sneakers and
over-the-shoulder silk de chine drape—came
together in palm-to-palm circles, to
Chant effervescence once-lofty among
gastric juices Carve a sort of
diamante pentagram in the air and
Exhume the humour of bourgeois maenads on
reality tv soap operas. The circle
did not break even as
they witnessed my unfazed
off-grip disposition. sodium among
pink things shining.


sloshy and adulterous drones of
men come to score or
brag ‘I’m here’. In
cataclysmically stonewashed denim. How did
you know to torment me. i am
ashamed to say it but
I expected more from you—beers
or hot potato—but
never nightwear. Hope has
left the building so their
Chevrolet won’t get me


Melbourne-based multidisciplinary artist, Angel Doberman’s interests lie in ambiguity. His work often draws on his experience with the occult. Angel Doberman’s practice explores dissociation, subjectivity, dreaming, destiny and texting among awful crowds. Angel is also a studied witch and reads tarot on the side. Find him on Instagram @hauntedinternetcafe.

Rahel Tierbach was born in Rostock 6 days before the Berlin Wall came down. She has a heart, a brain, a child and a dog, lives in Berlin and does healing chants in a band – finally!
Tierbach follows The Dictatorship of Art }:)
Playing is the most radical thing you can do.You can find her work at tierbach.tumblr and on soundcloud.