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.