suite20seven presents
window shopping
The Vegas of Northern Europe, A city synonymous with the idea of sex and drugs, I sit on this coach that hasn’t been detailed since the 70’s, A reminder of Nan’s Curtains, On the outside looking in. The crackling of Dutch Radio rings in my ears. Two Canadians play cards to my left, Exhibit B sleeps with his shades on. A gambler.
Every airport looks the same, A testament to mans quest to conquer nature, Every one of them determined not to stamp the first page of my passport. Dark Tunnels the bus enters, 13.34, The colour orange cuts your periphery,
Red checkers immigrate down the chute, As a bar coded man stabs savory staples. Canals interlock like the spokes on my bike Unleash your inner dragon, hallelujah. No need to close your eyes to dream, Promises Murphy. Unintentional head contact in a concrete jungle.
Dissolution of ones character, No longer framed by reality. Awkward first dates that never end. A red labeled Roman Empire. A shard of UV light designed to Disorientate and dis-appropriate. A port of call for X rated midnight cowboys, Who window shop for Elizabeth Sue Action Figures.
409 windows in total, Aimed to regulate the sex trade. A supposed univocal statement of safety, Ignores the notion of objectification. The monetization of our most basic human instincts.
Window Shopping by Suite20Seven All Rights Reserved 2016