Scrambled Eggs

Late
night
hours.
Dis-ordered images
in a tired mind:
serpents
smiling smugly,
acres of Aphrodites
anciently amorous.
Eros on an elephant
haniballing on.
Jungian synapses
firing archetypally.
Words jump fences,
juxtapose themselves
improbably in signs -
teratogenetic
horoscopes of sound
masquerade
as nonsense.
Symbols
of another reality,
by fatigue fragmented,
rise up babbling
in a semiconscious mind.
Chaos
must have been
something
like
this.