I was being filmed in the background by public access television and...

I once threw my t.v out the window
She was a whore, bitch did me wrong
She left for months, I read books
and books and books
played the intellectual
pretended with pen
I wrote about a balled up
newspaper page on the sidewalk next to the fence
of a park--garbage
I wrote about babies crying--garbage
Leaves changing colour, bells crashing,
rain--garbage, garbage, garbage

Then, she found me
I was stuck, slowed on the highway
Hood propped, poking around the mechanical guts,
knowing nothing
Her truck--big warm empty
room for 1 more
the rain came and I went

I dream in minute pitches
I shower with jingles
my dramas are hers
I laugh with the studio audience
I still throw things out windows