im haunted by sterling fassbinder.
since i grew my hair out, i no longer catch a chance glimpse of her in a mirror
like when im running in front of a glass skyscaper in a long black coat on a perfect blue day...
or if my leg's stiff and i find myself walking with a limp...and the fourth and fifth fingers on my right hand are curled up tight inside my leather glove...
instead she's everywhere:
disseminated...transmitted...
beamed by cellphones and blackberries
picked up by repeaters and repeated
w.a.s.t.e.
for those who know how to be w.a.s.t.e.r.s
...for those who wanna be everywhere and nowhere at the same time...
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