Death row Christmas illuminating your one night stand!

D|o|G, 2008 | Med vanlig sans for den rette timing vender D|o|G – Diaper of Glory – sig i dette æstetisk nyskabende digt imod det, der optager hjerter og sind i denne tid, nemlig julen. Digtet kan med rette læses som et indlæg i debatten om julens udvikling til et orgie af opskruede forventninger og knuste håb, og netop midt i denne debat og denne situation bryder D|o|G ind på den mest uventede, men sublime vis. Der lades ikke sten på sten tilbage i forbrugerismens forsvarsværker efter læsningen af denne poetiske pragtpræstation.

Death row Christmas illuminating your one night stand!

Minutes … … … Yes minutes, is this a question, you may ask? No it is not. It’s a transsexual generator bragging about his life-insurance in front of my crying bossa nova falcon. Whenever in Rome, look out for Rudy, she’s a hideous commando hawk patrolling the lifeless lookout only under water and always only on ground. Let’s begin from the top of an exploding Mexican subway, where pelicans discuss Russian broadband connections. Lamps of pirate gloom, shine in a garden of broken and hung-over raccoon immigrants.

Let the spirit wander into debt and frozen sailor urine in a hotel melted of coconut gasoline and a disillusioned xylophone horse.

Hey, hey let us all shake our bum in the name of Caesar and all living trance icons around the globe and your deeply suspicious “Locker room”.

It’s all in good fun and in no fun at all, besides just pure fun!

Seal the deal, Seal!