[00:04.40] |
Think big, girl, like a king, think kingsize. Did you learn nothing in America? I've placed four big bananas in my lap |
[00:21.62] |
In New York I don't dream. I always wanted to be less subculturally lonely, but here I see no subculture. No, no future. No big science. No big bananas. But I found no, no future |
[00:44.29] |
I rock the bananas gently, move back and forth. Don't wake them |
[00:54.32] |
What is soft dick rock? Using the elements of dick to create a softer, toned-down sound. I sing to the bananas. The skin is getting thin and brown |
[01:17.50] |
Norway. The girls are pretty. I'm one fourth Danish. If you have a child you better learn how to bake. I beckon the cupcake, the huge capitalist clit. I search the oven, scrub the racks, put my whole head inside, but I just can't find it. It's like looking out the window in there |
[01:48.31] |
The bananas rot slowly in my lap, silently, wildly, girly. The rash is an opportunity, a common disease, something in common, a community, the definition must be: something attacking itself |
[02:11.28] |
Four flaking, flaccid fingers. No future. Oh, the fruit flies |