turn down the sound of the radio
a notch too much
you could hear a sound of minions
beating pope goddess of economy
with your left over spoon

i heard you didn’t mind
if I was your elf
yes I heard you didn’t mind
knew you wouldn’t mind

reflected in your coffee
lights on long enough
bumblebee microscope
shift gear
it will stare at you

closely
aa-a-a-ah
long enough I would beat it
like a knife

i heard you didn’t mind
hide in my skin
it glues itself fastidious heavenly rocking
pretentious
insightful forehead
a-ah-ah
pretentious skin
sweating its radio waves

if you turn down the radio
you wouldn’t mind
it glues, sticks, radiates
whats already said

threw my blood into some celtic illumination
worldview is only our substantial
our egocentric posture
standpoint
through my blood in a celtic illumination
i hope you wouldn’t mind