augury doggerel

Thursday, October 03, 2002


In the dark this morning, Jupiter, if it was Jupiter, had spilled out of the thin bowl of the moon, and Venus, if it was Venus and not Sirius, sat on the horizon and sparkled. Orion was Orion, and I can still count the beads: Betelguese, Belatrix, Rigel, Saiph, Alnitak, Alnilam, Mintaka. In the field, a vast fleet of spiders had abandoned their wet masts and rigging to the sea. And now I am in a pink mist.


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