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🚨 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.
🚨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. 🎶