Winsor McCay

He was Winsor McCay!
Reincarnate, reincarnate.
Every day we'd say a prayer to save him.
Robots fought for his life,
Unsuccessfully, but then we can't beat a brain
To kill a mushroom softly growing...

In the shadows, making space, making room.
Choking fires, cracking skulls, sinking moods.

Where's the angel?
The spoiler-fitted flying angel,
Her spines with flaps to stabilize her.
She flew into the room just long enough to tease the spirit from him.

You don't have a snowball's chance.
Your kindness is like a dance.
Walking slowly, distorting everything you see.

Distortion is just like love,
It's passionate, fucked-up stuff.
What's the matter?
You wrote a hundred million songs.

Songs praising the mutant race,
Discovered in outer space.
Heaven help us!
If men like him are taken in...

Robots hatched from an egg,
Metal bodies, helicopters,
This is the way that Logan flies from here to
Heaven drawn on a page,
Blackbirds flying, swimming pools alive with his mind,
Conceiving creatures never found in the books,
But only sparking in the parts of his brain.
Only a fungus would complain.