I watch TV so I can love every person because every person is less intelligent less beautiful and less important than me
Ofelia Hunt
The amoebas are happier now that you've cryogenically frozen your brain and buried it carefully in the Marianas Trench with my brain and every other brain
Where the fish can feed slowly
On our brains until our brains become one brain
And finally we can open a Burger-King in space
Because people are happier now that Burger-King offers discount-card savings
Instead of coupons
Which require so much work
My hands are tired as they remove my brain and trade it with your brain
Which is the only true act of love I can perform
Now that I've swiftly decapitated every child
I could find at Six-Flags
And pasted their little pasty heads on the classroom bulletin-board in Boise, Idaho
Do you think we could own a Burger-King in Detroit?
Without destroying our life-philosophy
Because you said we can't 'own' anything anymore now that we've abandoned hope for outer-space colonization which you said was the only answer to the 'brain-problem'
And how brains were happier that year
When we decided finally to eat people but only the dead people
Which were useless otherwise and without hope but full of expectations that can't be graphed mathematically or something
It's winter now and the kittens are happier because we've added brains to the water-supply
But you don't care because kittens can't talk
And can only squeal kind of when we chuck them against the wall
To get the kitten-brains
And learn from the kitten brains which we line up on our mantel
The house is happier now that we've defined house-ness philosophically and determined finally that humans don't need houses
Because we can stack the humans log-like in the yard tomorrow
After we remove the brains and thinly slice the brains and press the thin brain-slices into flat glass planes for the museum
Which are happier because we're happier now that the wood-chipper is emptied of the blood that was so difficult to clean
The wood-chipper makes me love something
I can't see next year or ever again
The sheriff's happier now
His uniform's pressed and the unsolved arson has been solved
And today the sheriff will stop finally the letter he wanted to write to himself
About a wood-chipper in San Diego
Which was happier because San Diego had crumbled slowly into the ocean
Everything was solved mathematically and the sheriff told somebody
About the taser he had hidden in the oak tree
But I found it and tasered myself and it was beautiful