...Mercury Vapor...

Precisely what sort of light is it 

   which kills us? 

Lo, but that I have 

the mind of a moth and 

such question illuminati 

   confuses me.

 

The mind of a moth, 

   yet not a moth, 

yet drawn to the flame. 

The mind of a moth, 

I navigate by way of the moon. 

 

Indeed, such navigation is my nature, 

yet were you to ask my destination, 

am I wrong to in turn ask why 

you’ve chosen to change the subject? 

 

What does that have to do 

   with the night? 

What does that have to do 

   with the moon? 

 

Nocturnal/Narcotic. 

The mind of a moth 

   relative 

to the flame. 

Good night narcotic. 

Ahhh… and is not 

an incandescent bulb 

just as sufficient for navigation 

as the distant moon? 

 

What need have I for destination 

when a warm incandescent hum 

is mere inches away? 

 

Nocturnal/Narcotic. 

With the mind of a moth 

I navigate the incandescent until 

the glow of the filament wanes, 

then fly off in search 

of each and every 

consecutive lamp post. 

 

Narcotic/Necrotic. 

With the mind of a moth, 

I come to acknowledge that 

my final destination is to 

lie motionless beneath 

the searing heat of a

mercury vapor street lamp. 

 

Nocturnal/Narcotic/Necrotic.

I knew where 

the moon was,

but simply did not care. 

 

Ó04 Jack David Hubbell