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.