Wow, am I lucky!
That dream was like a skematic diagram of the back of my color television.
Morning becomes a clamp and continues
And there you are, washing one of those paper weights with a real bee inside it, in a real sink
And another (x10)
all to the visible man-show-eye of your record collection,
and the screeching of a once young head full of math.
It's one hundred miles an hour from the swings
to the pungent ugly honey of a dead thing
Lastability of skulls
Lastability of subjects
(x2)
No one rushed the first fish to crawl
for their more modern introductions to the egg.
Pause: Is a bone an egg?
The lastability of skulls
The lastability of subjects
(x3)
The lastability of skulls (That sort of nonsense)
The lastability of subjects (A light: That sort of thing)
(x4)
The lastability of skulls (That sort of nonsense)
How long, how long, how long?
How long (x10)