Bottomfeeder - Thought Industry

«This was the last night I had on Earth.

My home

Town was dismantled and transferred to the halo of

Jupiter, and I went with it.»

New York City, July 4th, 1994

The skyline burns on Manhattan.

She sat with me on

Top of a warehouse.

I said, «I'm so lonely.

I think it

Makes me sick;

and I’m sure God’s come to destroy

Me.»

Michigan man quits the freeway.

Strikes bargains

Within the entry.

Screams nonsense at the fools in the

Alleyway.

Finds solace sniffing bags of all my candy

But it’s cold;

and it’s so hard when you freeze

Come to My Flat

Sit around.

Sit on blackened heels.

Choke on

Someone’s spit.

Dig churches in the pavement.

I

Can’t walk.

I think I’ve arrived;

yea, my wallet’s

Thick.

I could leave.

You will not care here, but I

Care.

I care.

Contrive.

Concourse to produce, 'got

Lots a cable.

'got a bag of hep tools.

Electric paint.

I

Want a set of chairs, and my ceiling drips.

I could

Leave because I am nothing.

Cheap as the wine

Cheap as expensive gets.

'got a broken figure.

Not

Malfunctioned head.

I want that dream.

I hurt to

Talk.

She’s disagreed.

I could leave.

I’ll wind and

Bind.

I’ll wind and bind.

I am machine.

I am my

Father.

You want this walk.

I could leave

Tompkin’s Park

Mist forms and exhales in the cold December air

She digs deep in her pocket for a half smoked

Cigarette.

A bottomfeeder 'got jealous.

Struck her

Face with a tire iron.

Black clumps of park sod mix

With blood in her hair.

Picks herself off the cold

Ground, and starts to walk.

Her face is bleeding

Bleeding for you.

Picks herself off the cold ground

And starts to walk.

I can hear her screaming

«My love for you has never been so misunderstood.»

— Jane