Somehow

I crave those things
white styrafoan pleasures
i am sometimes sick
and deaf as a leaf in the dark
growing among vibration alone.
chicken-drums and
waddling music with the ducks:
indefatigable fact
immensly widening with eyes
and, pulling
dice for the throw---
magnesium veins rolling marble
with a peculiar information
almost like numbers
tumbling in hot
lava flows.

any direction you look you
study without looking.
any road you suddenly
pass will go on
moving with the bugs;
veiled mosquito eyes
white spiders
and silver mountains upside
down on the cold snowy lake.

to be the thing that hovers
above this all, upsidedown---

snowflake wood
metal dust of unconsciousness
why do you lie
still in
those
graves
with not
a head moving?

my friends and i are tied up.
lest we make the dead
line,
the windows to our wires
to our cobra--
all scales like closed
eyelids.

and the mouse is dreaming to be
white,
everyones mouse
Mickey Mouse.

Walt Disney is dead.

(that's how it was in halo
two man)

ok

what about the first one
where the alien wasn't hungry
for your mind
metal in the microwave
tongue on tongue electrocution
a baby born radioactive
radio - active
what does that
decay that is not first
ourselves?

what does it mean
when your stop watches melt?
when your second vision exceeds you
and seers come out of every hole to peep
and be the birth and death again.

my clothes grow flowers in music