Tree like an elevator

Fragile as a cracked but whole egg, I'm sitting in this construction. Superman's blues guitar raising and lowering outer walls, I'm catching cross-legged glimpses of the gradated horizon. I don't mind that his blues doesn't yet build the whole house. I like this meccano raising and lowering revealing trees, sunsets and neighbours.

I should feel his superimposed rhythm as intrusion but this is basic, the rhythm has always been blue. Last night Superman and I sat upstairs at The Hopetoun eating nachos, with Artboy. I'm waiting for a telegram on how I feel, it'll say Western Union at the bottom and To Dale, at the top.