And the clip-clops increasing
Singing the Blues and Ends and Reds
Oh Hallucinatory Mountain
Full of beauty and pain
Cry become many
Pasture moon scorpion
Grow numb cord invisible
Sleep paradigms
Horn burns and flesh
Suck beneath roofs
Chew prisons skin destroyer
Destroyer Murderer
Morning whirlwind
The crocodile devours everything
Except the watchtower green fields
Min is mine
Not thine
It’s Kitten Time at
GreatCrystalShrine
I am the butterfly net
And I see bad things arising
And crimes committed at night
Under the brow of the desolate Hill
Whilst Aleph grins
And says 
“All is good time”
And Cain as sharp as grass nods
“All is good crime”
I have had many men in me
The frame is empty
ⲁⲛⲟⲕ ⲡⲉ
ⲁⲛⲟⲕ ⲡⲉ
ⲁⲛⲟⲕ ⲡⲉ
You sailed away
On the rush boat
Onto last rivers
Styx or Thames or Nile
Woman in pale blue
Man and peach
And the cats and cows
In the club the old men
The old women
Die Bingo
The pyramids are on wagons
Go to Mecca and harbours
But I am not the disco
I am not the memory of Pilate
I am Aleph I am Adam
With Rickie Lee
Me and tea
By the bridge of sighs
With ice cream and clouds
Of chemicals and cancers
But I am not the disco
The voice gasps out
Aleph says 
“I am not the disco”
Adam says 
“I am not the disco”
Aleph and Adam spill out:
“For the first 26 years
I assumed the death posture
And swallowed spunk like butter
Cut my fingers
Stretched hands and peered
Through the gauze
Grew moons or flowers
And threw up robins
And the beaks of Kings”