You Know Me/Power Lines and Cookie Cutters

You know me.
I've seen too much, and I haven't seen enough.

You know how I love those power lines,
those beautiful power lines,
stretching out over the land like very thin ribbons, like spider silk.
You know how many times I've told you
how they look like guitar strings,
and God could just reach down and play a little song for us.
You know how many times I've told you
how we could hang our clothes on them
if we were stretched out all funny and tall and skinny like noodles.

You also know how I hate those cookie-cutters,
those atrocious cookie-cutters,
dominating the lunch tables like radioactive queens on a chessboard.
You know how many times I've told you
how they don't care about global warming or saving Darfur, no they don't,
they really don't; their goddamn t-shirts care more than they.
You know how many times I've told you
that their kind will rule the earth, that individual thought shall be
slaughtered at the altar for an artificial harmony like those nauseating sugar substitutes.

Oh, you know me well.
I've seen too much and I haven't seen enough.