Light thoughts leopard the deepest dark,
plucked harmoniously awry.
Witnessed together, sense muddles:
“Suspicious pairs – long salad tongs –
straddle a handicapped railing.”
From night sky flies these torn phrases.
We cooperate in story form.
And for a stake, gesticulate,
wrest each thought’s tossed impediments,
grasp at jokes lit by candor, or
manifest choice — window-dressing.
Candor replies with its logic,
and Logic falls fast asleep. Our
constellation of chloroform.
In solemn Night, hairy stars wisp
amidst avuncular mind-drifts,
where such sordid claims silence the
high-rise babble of idle Talk.
Suspicion conduces to stretch
the weary gap, minds the dream sluice —
a torrent of experience
to orchestrate and to abuse.
We thrust upward with filaments,
those tied pinpoints and uncertain
zeniths of unknown origin.
Star-crossed thoughts de-generalized.
Cacophonous genesis forged
aside bemusement: the Idea.
To all my worldly friends who enjoy glancing, thoughtfully, at the night sky.
Cut-out print of Edinburgh c/o of Emily Hogarth.