Dallas

red tulips.

wine that got spilled,

story of my life.

everything by Rodin is a mood

all his stances, tall and true.

: : : they are the eiffel tower : : :

: : : they are the ivory tower : : :

: : : they are the boy : : :

every head in a hand grieving.

it’s all of us.

eyes through parted

fingers face the floor.









Plenty of people sitting.

parle en français now girl,

because any one of them

could be the one for him,

mais je suis la crêpe de la saison.

so order me, dear vinny.

afterall,

a crêpe folded over

indicates finesse

it takes a certain kind of person

to complete.

but I don’t have it.

dear vinny,

will you love me?

cause i’ve got nothing.

no tattoos,

nothing borrowed,

nothing blue.

just tulips of wine

and nothing to do.









so stained glass girl.

so candelabra gold.

so banister bloating.

so dandelion many.

so jesus, outstretched arms.

so balthazar velvet high.

so i leap from the cathedral

and land on the moon.




i am the crêpe

that causes a choke.

i am the yoke,

the broken egg-breakfast.

i am the snow,

just so u know.





Text © Dallas

Original Artworks © Dallas

Photographs © Jon C Archdeacon