1837

VIBRATING UNDERPANTS

Megatsunami crunching down the island
Conspiracy theories make me sad
Now let's think fluffy happy thoughts
-- Money --
The sleeping and cycling
Cover me in reverb

An elegist, an epidemiologist
A fucking guerrilla general
Cleaning up New York
I stop at a truck stop somewhere in Pennsylvania
Or upstate New York and watch the young mothers
Surrounded by personalized merchandise

A radio-controlled savior
Nobody out. The twitching won't stop.

I am watching this network exist to pull all the energy. It's working. The clouds coughing,
The airplanes wheezing wherever.

Putting meals together for love,
For kindling, a little brandy maybe.
In the bottom of the glass, a watery cola blip

Nothing and nobody staring into what they love
It's blinding!