i am so full of radio signals that when i fart,
i can make car radios change in passing cars.
i am special in the future sense of the word.
if you were here i would show you things. things you never dreamed.
and you would cry as your eyes filled with static, snow, white noise.
i spent the last 20 years celibate.
waiting for love. waiting to be special.
fuck you. im not waiting anymore.
i am spinning new dreams in my head that will infect you.
cause you to stutter with the sky.
to see what i see. kiss me. i see oil fields burning.
i see that we funded september 11th by driving suv's.
we want to drive hummers in cities where battered women are sleeping under freeway underpasses hungry and feel like we have achevied something. kiss me.
i have a head full of pandemonium for you.
i can show you the future.
the cheap paperback novel that awaits us all, lying on the sidewalk, spine broken, yet still transmitting.
we are the beautiful and mad high definition transmission of a world that no longer exists.
i am full of tension as the pages rip away in the nuclear wind.
page after page of american history burning in the breeze.