everything is disconnected in the way that matters. art is aligned with power, an uneasy mask. artless politics. tear gas. obomba. behind the mask lounges a nullity on a king size bed. slippery sheets. a  money making scheme. the revolution might be televised. another one right comes up behind, in the next twittering news cycle. washing machine, spinning waves. futility spun from human utility. we're constellating our frangible stars in the floating gyre, becoming fast the plastic trash of history's wake, we don't be, we seem, the dream of waste, the waste dream.