mr. electric disappears and re-appears like a smiling/snarling phantom.
  dawn: wooing the blue from the crawling eyes of babies
  midday: vanished. grinning through the sweat pores of harlots and whores.
  sundown: opening a cloak of tentacles...
  preaching the gospel of cracked crystal beaks.
  dusk: peeling back the birth skin like wrapping paper around a virgin.
  vanish again.
  twilight: march on electric children!
  and you, with your self righteous army of crotches spewing paper children,
  his death hole is deeper.
  and stronger than love.