dadaist persecution is dad’s percussion/ in-coming (“i don’t think vincent price ever wore that hat!!”)

lost in the witch-house

(outside water’s flowing up the mountain or is the glass steamed up?)

windows seem to stake out their own square

guess it’s all in the blinds

grey lemon-cake, slices like sky strikes

everyone loves a trier

everyone hates ingredients that go sour

                   (man, I’ve got a new hobby and it’s an absolute doozy)

—my name is michael bay and I destroy things for a living

I’m looking at society through spectacles

I would like you to buy a chair, pull it up

And join me even if you don’t want to—

 

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One Response to “dadaist persecution is dad’s percussion/ in-coming (“i don’t think vincent price ever wore that hat!!”)”

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