The Fog Thrower

D|o|G, 2019 | Filminstruktøren Jean-Luc Godard påpegede, at enhver historie bør have en begyndelse, en midte og en slutning, men ikke nødvendigvis i den rækkefølge. Med et enestående kunstnerisk greb overfører D|o|G – Diaper of Glory – nu samme hypotese til digtningens verden. Endnu et storværk er skabt.

The Fog Thrower

The end – and thanks for reading.

The Life of the Fog Thrower was spontaneous.

As spontaneous as a well-planned observation of showering woodpecker boys can be.

The Fog Thrower had a small apartment complex, inside a complicated apartment in a building complex consisting mostly of apartments.

The Fog Thrower also had a family. A so-called family containing containers of liquid contempment towards a local acid barbeque/fundraiser for homegrown alcoholic beavers.

The Fog Thrower did work most of his life away at an inexperienced/intoxicated pigeon household fixing only the bear/bare minimum required in order to still have an ongoing love affair with a cigarette-stained yellow coin.

The Fog Thrower was happy as long as his penis was outside in lovely misinformed lava world, while the rest of his body remained inside of his house/in limbo/in a

The Fog Thrower had some shame. The shame of not having an oil painting of a Spanish bombing in the location of his somewhat normal/machine-like face.

The Fog Thrower died while humming the chorus to the fall of the Third Reich, resulting in him dying on a broken clichéd note.