Most of the Day
We Were At the Machinery
In the Dark Sheds
That the Seasons Ignore
I Held the Levers That Guided the Signals to the Radio
But the Words I Receive, Random Code, Broken Fragments From Before.

Out in the Trees
My Reason Deserting Me
All the Dark Stars
Cluster Over the Bay.

Then in a Certain Moment
I Lose Control and At Last I Am Part of the Machinery.

(The Belldog) Where Are You?
And the Light Disappears
As the World Makes Its Circle Through the Sky.