
Artist: Anna Van Der Ploeg


No date no wait, no fate to contemplate

Possible night, impossible night, pegs, strings, stringing one excuse to every guest

What eyes at eagle height can see back as far as a day in March

Yes I heard you thinking of me did you hear me laughing

That hot bacon smell of pure contradiction

Antilogic is the dance of the dog in hell happy to eat any food that grows, but do they not say the same of a dog in heaven?

If the minister who turned into a paper shredder could talk gate

The transformation of subtle indecipherable day shard encryptions into firm nut and bolt explanations gate

The transformation of business is lousy into business is great gate

Who else do you say that to
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The problem is that my scrutiny of the scene from every possible angle doesn’t reveal a single clue
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