.................--Diane G., July 2007
In the domed cavern of the nightjar's skull
the nightjar song echoes like a lecture
on identity and location.
In an alternate dimension it is trying to prove
the existence of personal experience as a kind
of fashion statement.
In the Papa Bear cage a little mother creeps
like a kitty past a poor kitchen, hiding herself
among hygienic conditions,
in the mind of Aunt Jane wattage dwindles
despite the assistance of computer devices
beyond the means of art,
in an example of how not to welcome cousins
her face disappears from a longsuffering portrait
over a shelf of blue items,
a pile of rejects hypnotized beyond recognition,
elastic as advertising ploys, moral as issues
to be discontinued.
Meanwhile, the nightjar alternative cages
dwindling cousins’ morality in safely
furnished illlusions of bonheur.
The only students of this ecosystem
have long since gone to bed with
or without one another.