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.