this fog xeroxes

a blank mind...

dues eX machina.

curled up in bright raindrops

that cling to the idea

of a branch.

as a certain Mr. Darko stabs at

a mirror...Bunnymen Echo

through the fog.

diving down the holes

of her "Killing Moon".

those

songful submissions of dire

lyrical agency.

Mr. Darko will stare out

impolitely...till the lunar

mission completes itself.