Come and visit me inside these walls.
Watch me as I run from here to there
and crash, and there and crash, and back again.
See me as I’m constantly repelled.
Observe me in my common uniform.
It could be brown, it could be black,
it could be yellow, red, or pink.
For me it’s white and presently it fits me well.
View me as I stumble from my simple bed
and take the first of several scrapings
down my neck. These prepare me for
the day ahead. For to do the same thing
over and again is deemed my proper punishment.
Follow, as I take the rest I’m due,
but never passing the perimeters –
those walls outside my walls.
See me in fulfilment of my body’s needs.
See me standing, see me squatting –
the periodic degradation.
Then when this day of slog and scoff
and shit is done, long hours later,
watch me as I trudge back to my bed.
Remember as you see me that these walls
are mine – I made them, and I make them –
but know that the perimeters are yours.
Now ask yourself the only question:
David Dumouriez has been described by no less an authority than Dr. Henry Kissinger as being 'Basically what the internet was invented for'. His massive online presence has given rise to an army of rabid fans who eagerly anticipate his every move. This is the cause of some embarrassment. But what can you do?