The Kings of Norway
They all were going around trying to prove themselves, litigating the case for their own worth: Look at me, look at me, look at me—I matter, don’t I?
They’re just a bunch of gay jocks, that’s allEmpty in the head, clomping around
You had a rod up your ass, like all the pianists I know
pretentious scales, that’s all it is. They want me to go in and play them a fucking waltz and then walk out. That’s it.
Please stop making porn.
Look at me, look at me, look at me—I matter, don’t I?
Happy Birthday, I love youCall me when you’re free
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Alfonzo looked aghast, like they were the two most naïve immigrants in the history of New York. “ICE is preparing to break through that door with guns and night vision goggles, maybe even dogs, and you’re worried about the breeze?”