The world is whooshing and sort of sludging by
And people are the streets of consciousness
And I am just an eye in a city, spying on itself

And there is this little box that changes colors,
And I chase that box around
Pull it up, put it down.

It is a new part of my old body,
An expression of the species I am.

Classical objects exist, quantized in suspension
All seems apart from what it once was
The blood has spilled over yet another tier into a stranger world,
And I am made to love it

I have forgotten who i am,
And in the midst of my anxious preoccupation my worst fears have been elected leader
With real hope sitting in my treasured gut like a stone
In a world apart from my solemnly knowing mind