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, and another, and another, and...
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 sujects
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
that sort of nonsense.
The lastability of subjects
a light- That sort of thing.