Call 911, ‘cuz this bar mitzvah is bringing sexy right to your doorstep

D|o|G, 2007 | Skønt dette digt – i lighed med de øvrige fabelagtige stykker lyrik fra D|o|Gs hånd – nødvendigvis må tage sit udgangspunkt i moderniteten og al dens væsen, fornemmes det alligevel fra de allerførste stavelser, at dette manifest af et digt rammer lige ned i den standende, borgerkrigslignende debat om betimeligheden af et samfund, i hvilket enhver tradition, kultur, åndsrelation og historie er godt i gang med at blive fortrængt af fremmedgørelsens vinde, der blæser fra alle verdenshjørner, hvor den selvberoende humanisme har stukket sin blodige snude frem.

Call 911, ‘cuz this bar mitzvah is bringing sexy right to your doorstep

Greetings from the moon/Ribe. My little/enormous, broken and abused school girl body has been floating in a river of blood/semen/nails and construction worker spit for too many years/centuries/minutes now. Hold me or throw me out from a skyscraper, while erotically yelling names in abstract Norwegian. Decay and cookies are the only things I appreciate, besides clawing backwards into a bakery, while 1200 nuns pee into outer space and give birth to a 10 feet tall raven. Give a summary in 400 words and select one of the following tasks, hand in the paper on the 16th of June, 1856, and say hello to your butler monkey; it’s been too long, far too long. A knight bartender electrocuted 14 of my whale fiancées, while quickly and firmly mixing my vodka drink and giving me directions to the nearest sauna/Star Bucks/castle.

Andy, watch out for that approaching missile and follow your dreams.