Sonnet for Sigmund Freud’s Birthday

He saw the light in images in dreams
When words had fled and left the wandering night
Without a sign to guide it. The past it seems
And present in cahoots took great delight
Creating maps that led nowhere, Escher
Stairs that climbed to upsidedowns beyond
All reason where a principle of pleasure
Ruled with blind mis-rule and black was blonde.
He saw the light in such confusion, saw
The face in condensation where all faces
Were spit and image of another, where law
And order lived in chaos. Of all places!
The dream then whispered in his ear and said:
“It was I who put the nightlight in your head.”

Eugene Mahon Rapallo May 2011