Fingers touching with thumbs touching in a pose of air,
like velvetine cloth instead of this fleshy stuff,
full with blood and muscle and skin with blue lines,
on fire now with tapping the plastic keys of a mechanical toy,
down from above where the light makes my eyes wide,
silly addition to man's genius which will save us,
just like his berries and apples that fill us with gasoline,
on fire like my late father who poured it on something,
with car's engines purring like oceans out on the roads,
away from all trouble, people perched on vinyl seats,
talking about their troubles to others with theirs,
as beings all over are sleeping.