"How many public sinks left running for ghost hands? Your change given in foreign coins and still coming up short. Imagine all the salt shakers loosened upon the world; names scrawled into sidewalks; people who hate people and work in services you have to tip; patrons making waitresses cry right now. Right now there are sleeper cells waiting to hit you hard on the shoulder as you make your way home.

When I can finger someone who looks responsible for these acts, I follow them home, dump their trash cans, throw a brick through a window, take a long piss on the front door. Harsh, yes, but half measures are what brought us to these times. When those sirens wail for me I know I am an ancient god, running from all I've done."

(On soft terror, 2010)