There is a moon

There is a moon

It never does much

Other than wax and wane

Moving across the sky

Time and time again

They say it influences the tides

But on nights like this

It barely registers

On the scale of things to keep

A person interested

Sodium lighting has no warmth either

The neighbourhood cats

Have their own party going on

Down in the alley

They call them laneways in Australia

Which is weird as some of them

Are too narrow for cars

Whilst others are plain old

Cul-de-sacs

With nowhere to go

There are some nights

That feel a little bit like that

It doesn’t need rain

But the sound of a thunderstorm

At midnight

Has all the menace

Of a Lovecraft story

The devil sings the blues

Even without a reason

The spell is never broken

Until thunder shudders

The ceiling fan,

Catching a spider mid-swing

Looking to cast a net from one

Side of the room to the other,

Without missing a beat

She reels down to the dresser

Taking a time-out

To settle the nerves

Not hers, mine.

Nothing is as it should be

Until the rains starts

I think it must be time

To go to sleep

My agnostic soul to keep

Roll me over-rover

Perhaps all I need is a lesson

In breathing from a guru

Who puts his beard

In a ponytail

When, without warning

The old dog barks

The cats squeal

I find myself caught

Up in a grotesque nursery rhyme

Falling down a hill

Into psychedelia

With everyone's words

Written backwards

In speech bubbles

Dreaming seems to impact

On sleep deprivation

In a way that does nothing

To ease the transition

From one scene to the next

If it stops raining

I might bake a cake.