During bright hours of the day's perfect reason
We pay our dues, with studied politeness
To debts of logic: But after dark things are different
We pull up the covers, turn backs on ambiguity
Only to fall down again into insanity; calamity
Fire, flood, and eternal damnation
Over and over again, in the disordered night
We must give up the dominions of order,
The principalities of purpose
Because a balance has to be maintained
To keep everything co-existing in equilibrium
Cognitive reliance versus cognitive dissonance
If well ordered thought were to usurp
Chaos and disorder, only to the single
Decimal point place; there'd be no more dreaming
And as one man's lucidity is another's breakdown
The degrees of sanity would become imagination's playground
With little to distinguish between them
Half the world gone missing suddenly
Might be a catastrophe worthy
Of the stuff of which nightmares are crafted.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem