Strange Inhuman Company

Fragile adjectives in orbit –
significant degrees of which
are breaking up into detritus –
whirling ‘round the globe
like dying gnats –
followed by insectivores
that look a bit like bats –

my thoughts lose prescience,
gain dead weight they had
not started out with: night
sucks out their air –
replaces it with seeds of dreams
which ricochet like buckshot –
rattling in my floating carapaces

in indifferent anarchy: all
conspire to ride the gravitational
effects of skull to lull it
and the rest of its attachments
into interesting uneasy sleep:
what strange inhuman
company I keep.

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