i stole the man in the moon
and now i keep him in my room
i hop into my portable radio at night
and i switch the channels
when I get a fright
outside the schools of silver coin fish,
outside, the turtle, who
for a shell, stole a gold dish
yes, you may touch me
but that doesn't make me real
this wavering water glass
is between us
in panes i cannot feel
a glint of gold smoke,
flash of a crystal cigarette
shimmered right out of the spot she stood in,
with one sparkling pirouette