D|o|G, 2017 | Afrika er et stort og mangfoldigt kontinent, men dets indbyggere såvel som dets dyr står desuagtet over for store udfordringer, ikke mindst i mødet med de nordafrikansk-arabiske befolkninger. D|o|G – Diaper of Glory – funderer i dette inderligt udtryksfulde digt over sammenstødene imellem Subsaharas savanner og Maghreb-landenes citruskultur. En digter, der opofrer sig og hviler i sig selv.
JFK, RTL and Ctrl+Alt+Del are all a delicate, stupid mountain goat
The turquoise and bloodstained racecar that I find every morning in the toilet bowl of my aunt’s eyelid, will forever be read as a memoir of embryonic zebra coughs.
I enter the room, where the chair might be a real chair.
I observe the room and the chair now, and I might walk out of this particular room in a little while.
I now hang upside down, while placing the chair where it needs to be.
The chair is a metaphor for a similar brown chair.
An unpleasant intermission is maybe in session as we speak/communicate through sign language.
Put your feet up and relax a bit, you deserve it, kid.
The overweight tequila rabbit needs some rest, in order to stop these relaxing tendencies.
Put your rabbit up and relax a kid, you deserve it, bit.
As the sentences die, a Moroccan currency boards the plane.
The disgusting repertoire of the Moroccan currency entertains the crowd, but bores the plane.
The plane now sleeps, please be quiet and bored.
I married a lung last week.
Then the lung ate me.
I am now neither a lung nor dead, but I’m dead. Killed by an eating lung.