Explaining Fashion to the Outdated VampireThrough personal libraries with empty stacksfilling with dust mites, packed like bars with monsters playing poker for kitty-cats,I walk all worlds with beauty and light up my sleeves. Everywhere I see humans frazzled with waiting for mochas, hyped at stoplights.Underneath their slimy patiencethere is a constant raiding, like the mayor cuddling boy Scouts one moment,swallowing spiders the next. Glance sideways and you can see humans and demons at sunset. You get why cardigans are out? It comes down to the sewers, we are all searching for dark, empty places. Layers are out, now the people want me to stab through evil,expose your world as shit. It’s all about loud patterns performing misdirectionlook—a flower—a dove—the bright dream of a singular surface.
