On Being A Secret Lesbian July 24, 2008

I’m a secret lesbian. I also hoard tinned soup and broken lightbulbs.

(I am accused of being an obsessive-compulsive secret lesbian)

There is nothing obsessive with noting man’s need for soup while in midst of such geopolitical uncertainty.

And I draw faces on the bulbs. The faces are the faces of those without worry, who have passed to the Other Side, the Eternal Darkness, the Blown Filament of Finality and when they speak they speak of a time of change, of madness on the wind, of the complete destruction of the monetary system as we know it and the replacement of the dollar with tins of tomato soup and the yen with vegetable.