Sapphics for David Bohm

Booze-distorted, goggled-at, rain-refracted,
commonplace world-furniture turns auratic,
oozing at the boundary sightly nectar,
gauzy effulgence;

auditory too are hallucinations –
overtones fuzz out into amp-singed umber
over soft-fringed strummers still at their footwear
fixedly gazing.

Even so there’s place for precise distinction,
parts of wholes laid out by decomposition:
this and that inventoried to the nearest
practical unit.

(Mainframe hyper-abacus keeping tally
loses count to once-in-a-lifetime cosmic
upset, bit-reversal by stray neutrino –
who woulda thunk it?)

Chaos makes the swirliest swirls in theory –
vortices convene at the gasping plughole,
vertices make love with their own reflections,
crazy-dimensioned.

Time will keep us jigging along beside it,
wholeness half-betraying its mute perspective
should we estimate or in trance intuit
implicate order.