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Dada Is My Name


Dada
is my
name

Dada is my name and my name is Dada
and I

eternalise the world with identities.
I fly and I kite and I screw
with trivial profundities, smoking
without ever smoking, without ever
being, a dada blob under your shoe

I stretch to the moon and I shrink to the earth
to beyond the tiniest atom. I climb up every wall
to display myself proper, pasting my news
as your wallpaper. I’m old but unborn
colouring every world with mixed suppers

I crave and I meditate on small mountains
abstaining myself for cool shoes. I lose
and I win daring to be sold, throwing myself
to the lowest bidder. I bing and I bop to zinga
the cran, shouting my name like its meat

Did I mention my name is Dada? Dada
is my name? I understand your martyred
caring and hope that it springs through
the air to every aired corner and planet.
Dada is my name, stop shouting in my

ear and taste the new thing beginning,
now ending, beginning, I’m DADA, I’M DADA, I'M DADA


Now time for my anti-dada moment that I share with all my named friends…

This is the T-shirt and Hoodie I wear, the poster I see on my wall:





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