Orions Onions

oblique inverted potting vessels full of luminescent onions. half the bulbs have grown out of their habitats sprouting at night over roof tops on saint james avenue. the other half hang down along telepone wires across the street. celestrially conspicious reflecting in dull orange hews on the pavement. me and saint james stand there looking up to count them. rows and rows of electric globes. under orions nocturnal orchard they flicker in the light of their own myths. i to am a dreamer this night. i to move with the spheres first in the garden now under the lamps.