Poem: 2am

 

2am

 

chill tightens around the screen

like a celsius of snake

menacing an egg,

my eyes twin fidgets in the yolk,

so small.

 

from here to the depths of Cetus,

the only lamp is this dim square,

bugaboo of joules,

spooky against the feral flesh

of the ancient night.

 

my hands run like spiders,

do not ‘straddle the velvet’

as my mind perceives to wish,

contemplating as i am

the flight of the Dipper.

 

no thread attached to the real

as i click to type glibly away,

fast as i can in this uncertain place,

lost in the qualms of a somewhat sleep

which hints at rest.

 

 

 

 

 

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10/14/25 ... changed some words

10/13/25 .. eds off and on all day