I do push-ups like I’m in the clink.

fast and loose

faster than you think

then I load her up

and I take a hit

that’s when I get psychic

that’s when i see shit

blue-green pictures in my mind’s eye

of millions living now

who will never die



it’s not like I can read yr brainwaves to find out what you think

rather, it’s about being plugged into the Central Generator

you know,

through the outlet over the sink

the same one that powers my own private Schwarzenegger

he brews me coffee thick as tar

and feeds me cherry now and laters

(while on American Idol a girl scalps herself to become a star)



yeah

me and my friends are so smart

we invented a new kind of art

we receive transmissions from the satellite fart

share a vibe

and erase our start



look

all I know is that I feel like something bad is gonna happen.

something big and fucked on the island of manhattan

and it has to do with how we’ve put the car before the yolk

and those who survive will be the punch line to the joke

they’ll hold hands and join a church and confess all their sins

they’ll have their cathartic memorials and print their t-shirts and wear commemorative pins



and because they’re alive

they’ll finally subscribe

and receive re-invigorated digitized beams for their plasma screens.

broadcasting beer commercials and fox five

anti-pot recriminations

fer the denizens of this daydreamnation

who will walk like zombies around the malls

waiting for danger

fer a pipebomb to pop their basket balls

fer a smuggled gun to smudge their maybelline face

or a black arab hand in their lap

to wipe away every last trace

of how life was before the big zap

when they never thought to make preparations for the dirt nap

that will someday be yours

while these streets will endure

lined with starbucks and krispy kremes

and the compact cars and hard on teen dreams

and TV TV TV

btw

I cried at the full monty

I cried at channel 13

at the story of the lone accountant who stood up and blew the whistle

and I cried at the way that fat woman on The Practice stuck up fer those kids

she was sharp as a pistol

the way she took some highly damning testimony, flipped the script and turned it into the greatest and most obvious defense of all time.

(oh, if only I had someone like that to take care of all my tiny little crimes!)





mott the cromby