mr. electric disappears and re-appears like a smiling/snarling phantom. dawn: wooing the blue from the crawling eyes of babies midday: vanished. grinning through the sweat pores of harlots and whores. sundown: opening a cloak of tentacles... preaching the gospel of cracked crystal beaks. dusk: peeling back the birth skin like wrapping paper around a virgin. vanish again. twilight: march on electric children! and you, with your self righteous army of crotches spewing paper children, his death hole is deeper. and stronger than love.