There is a beckoning of the Northern Lights. A challenging of the North Star. If the horizon is still silent I will not pretend to know why. I have no idea. Horizons tend to be silent from time to time. But as the North Star beckons and the horizon only whispers I find myself challenging the moon. It is he who keeps all secrets of the Northern lights however- what Jupiter will not say Venus is spreading rumors about some where over the Pacific ocean. If I were considering the course of things I might have to wonder why Venus is always so insistent upon telling the lies of Jupiter, or the secrets of the moon.
If it is still true that dead men can’t talk then could that be the reason all the women are speaking? They may have a communication loop hole that spins like a hoola hoop which they struggle constantly to keep in motion. You see there was this silent picture, one that seemed to know more than I did…oh but wait, wait, I’m getting a head of myself aren’t I?
There was a cemetery on the sidelines. The one I told you about, unless perhaps you were not listening or paying attention? Though one would think that a cemetery which sits on the side lines would be worth a moments notice? Perhaps not? Anyway, this cemetery that circled the sidelines ( I did not mention the circled part because it only now began circling) and as it did so it began passing and rotating the names in counter clockwise motion, passing each name upon a tombstone to the next as one might expect to change or alter name plates upon a dinner table in order to find a more adequate seating arrangement. I can not be sure what exactly was wrong with the arrangement of graves to begin with, but who am I to question the dead? So I asked Venus, since Jupiter wasn’t talking.