Befuddled, Huddled, Furry

Undermining and embedded embryos

of not-quite-thought crouch fearful, hiding –

hirsute, overgrown and bundled in a fragile

sac deep in the mind, befuddled, huddled

in a furry bind too prematurely shorn of hope

to dare imagine they can ever cope, or even

find the unimpeded air: too choked by

disputatious bands of over-qualifying, rarefied

and sense-defying philosophic strands to ever

know the frank sensation of the soft embrace

of atmosphere on their few, rare unguarded

bare and un-thatched surfaces of proto-hand

and -foot and -face. No wonder they appear

forlorn and fraught – looking on at other

naked, fresh, assertive hunches lining up

in bunches to be born as thought.

.