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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