Using the art of triangulation
I plot what I think's my position,
the universe thinks differently
and expands my point of view.

The creator,
a failed realtor
or what?

Celestial snooker.

To lose one world is unfortunate
and so on and so on, but it goes on
and in the end it will end

nothing is patently obvious
except the shine in that
new pair of shoes.

On a whimsy
I paint
' made in Grimsby '
on the back of a Leyland bus.

I should shoot by starlight
I might get my position
right.

I sail on into the reach
of the night
and anchor on the dark side
of the Moon.