KIM JONG-iL´S BIRTHDAY

I, Kim Jong-il, keep dreaming about riding on a comet, lads.

When I open my eyes you will see sky slowly changing from pink to gray to blue to green to yellow to Me, lads.

This is my birthday, lads. I want you to choose my love. I do it with joy because you love me, lads.

You don´t need your names, lads. Pretend to be someone else and leave your worries behind. I want you to choose my love. I do it with joy because you love me, lads.

Despite your frequent complaints, lads, my love has a very good eyesight. I just steal candy from babies, lads. This is my birthday, lads. Even as you wear your medals like chains this is also your birthday, lads.

I promise you, lads, that Snow White will seek the attention of you all, lads.

I determine that you must close you eyes and speak in tongues, lads. Just pretend to be someone else and leave your worries behind, lads.

I determine, lads, that justice has been done.

나는 너를 의 김 슬쩍 밀기il사랑한다

NOWHEREMAN

AHMADINEJAD LIKES NAZI FLOWERS

These scars are our only beauty and fog is still too thick to be real.

Abandon hope, they said. We are in Auschwitz. You still have your desire, they said. We are nazi flowers. You know the importance of being prepared in a moment of perfection.

No matter what they say night is full of whispers. You, Jew, compare your reason to our dream untill you enjoy it.

Abandon hope, they said. Happiness has made us crazy.

However, fifty years later Mr. Ahmadinejad likes nazi flowers with x-ray vision. He plays Wagner and tries to make some improvements. The sky is surprisingly fragile.

He likes nazi flowers and wants to be reborn just to prove a point. There are still more secrets to be revealed, he says. Holocaust has vanished into my garden and this is my true satisfaction.

Why don´t I feel myself turning to stone? He says.

NOWHEREMAN

CIA FLYING CIRCUS

I have never been lost enough to forget you, Condolezza.

Dancing soldiers with fire in their eyes are still waiting for me. They want me to have a revealing moment in the yard. This is the reason they were born.

They are comedians who like to see me suffer in Guantanamo Hotel.

Someone has a sense of fulfillment. In an unfamiliar room someone screams, everything he sees is neatly askew. He dreams and tortures. And he says close your eyes and join me in my dream of soldier at Guantanamo Hotel. You see,

the sun can't reach us and there is nothing we need.

Azores will live in the glory of Guantanamo Hotel. The moon begins to rise wonderfully, without explanation. I have never been lost engouh to forget you, Condolezza.

I have never been lost enough to forget you, George W. Bush.

My son, whom you will remember, laughs in secret and will show you his scars.

NOWHEREMAN

HUGO CHAVEZ´ TOYS

He dances when he thinks no one is around.

In the cool midday Hugo Chavez is hunting for Venezuelans. This is a familiar situation for Him and He is trying too hard. They all volunteered for medical experiments.

Hugo Chavez insists this is true happiness. A lot of songs start out this way. I say this is a classic scenario. With an eye on the exit all toys are using His name.

He hides His true nature and slinks in like a cat.

Unpredictably, He is inspired by a moment of clarity. They are all using His name.They are His toys. What does this mean? He asks. He falls into space and world seems new.

Hugo, play the harp of your toys, you need not worry. They all volunteered for medical experiments, remember?

NOWHEREMAN