Lapse in Sleep

Box Office Christ, on the golden stairway telephone,
when will the summer materialize for my paranoia to find her?
I am a broken point of reference in a quick silver hedge maze,  
and my nerves feel like a set of gelatinous calculations.

The argument to infinity must be defined somehow,  
the response to a focal configuration
in distorted frames of psychotic remedy.
... And the lapse in sleep continues

The same trip repeats itself,
and I am consumed by words and bass.
The day is another obligation to be disposed of sometimes.
I shouldn't be looking for time like this.