A tent should be bent and sent before lent

D|o|G, 2019 | Ved indgangen til fastetiden er D|o|G – Diaper of Glory – ophavsmand til et nyt digt, der trækker tråde til de utydelige, sollyse minder fra barndommen og fortiden: vittighedssider i tegneserieblade; langsomme, larmende opkaldsmodemmer som eneste vej til internetforbindelse; og sorgløse eftermiddage på en bådebro. I en epoke, der tørster efter mening og retning, leverer digteren den fornødne vej fremad, ind i passionstiden.

A tent should be bent and sent before lent

My intercom Rastafari modem fills my rucksack with a suspicious water-ski tampon.

A joke is in order! Two middle aged/cremated swans walk handcuffed into a soiled, laughable dimension. The first swan then asks: “Is it only I who smells coin in a newly built asshole?” The other swan then commits a semi-prepared suicide before hastily going to work in a violet, quiet manor. End of joke as we should know it.

What a pain in the pink butter-hole! The signal of the handicapped snail is not working once again! Why, you seem to ponder? It has never worked.

Beard-kids and floorboard-adults will reunite in hardcore Asian rally-trafficking, and I for one will turn down charity forever because of something entirely unrelated.

23 345 money of some sort I do not have. And 23 years left in a building I may have sometimes. Another joke is in order. An iron robe chuckles at its own reflection/public reception until it realises that it usually signs every important document with its left testicle, and now it weeps from the heat of having thoughts. Joke has now ended. Please be shot/seated/drilled into comatose.