i have a head full of tin. tin din upon tin din. radarhead. i send out the signal. emitting from my crotch.
twisting and squirming against the fabric. i have a head full of song.
tin songs that play in the waiting rooms i wait in. i wait like a man. freshly laundered and pressed. well dressed.
clean shaven. black tongue twitching inside my rotten mouth. i smile. and the screams start. screams of tin and traffic.
i have of head full of screams. the rain plays against the train window in minor key. and i want to sing along.
to sing my tinny song. cell phones are ringing. they are singing. i have a head full of metal beats.
i had decided last week to leave my art and go to sleep for a long time. and here i am again.
sitting in traffic, listening to the ambulance siren song. i start to sing along. i have a head full of shit. this is it.
nothing more. nothing less. it is what it is. random electrical impulses rule my thoughts. rewired. im so fucking tired.
i have a head full of sugar and flowers and light. i am bright. nova (caine) its all about to begin again.