The last possible deed is that which defines perception itself, an invisible golden cord that connects us: illegal dancing in the courthouse corridors. If I were to kiss you here they'd call it an act of terrorism--so let's take our pistols to bed & wake up the city at midnight like drunken bandits celebrating with a fusillade, the message of the taste of chaos.

Lendo Caos: Terrorismo Poético e Outros Crimes Exemplares. Não dá pra entender nada, mas que é bonito é.