🚨 112 / 911 (or, this is an emergency)

secretly I’m busy Flügel-ing with you

Hiiii! This poem is not a mind palace, it’s an apartmental ode to taking over gay bars for straight people in small Dutch towns that can’t make gin martini’s but will tell you they invented limoncello even though limoncello totally comes from Italy, as a means to cope with your disillusionment with labor.

ALSO, if you live in Amsterdam, come to my very first exhibition opening this week on Thursday from 18.00 @ Treehouse NDSM for their “In the Process Making” show! We’ll laugh, drink, & generate source text for poetry.

xx K

---

🚨112 / 911 (or, this is an emergency)

I know you are but what am I?
a single crocus cropping up
from the sidewalk
lip syncing for its life?

to get what my heart wants most
means living 

this day over and over again 
until I get it right you know, 

anyone can be a hero 
under the right conditions

so charge your phone 
and change your clothes 
with toothbrushes, we are unstoppable!

secretly I’m busy
Flügel-ing with you
my duck duck GOOSE 

my Groundhog Day idealism		
my jarred tulip memorial

my sidewalk Pringle 
my cauterized part

in a nesting doll dream

thought you were my next door neighbor 
but you only.loved.above.me.

was I stupid for thinking that fire I started could make its way to your place?

my inconsistent condition
my excess expressions

got lost in the recipe,
for your serotonin slime 

so beware:

of summoning sunsets

of hatching doormats

of shards of something 

---

Your poetry homework for the week is to learn the lyrics to this song. 🎶