Howfing down a big fat cigarette in the back garden
The light pollution seems less than normal and the sky is punctated
incised, stuffed and studded with garland lights
Gauzy goose fat filter smears and
—Far, hark,
his coming,
Ossified things alive and dead,
dusted
smelted
asundered and smashed,
upturn their hollows to the sound of the heralding light
And see the same stars as I do