Monday, April 20, 2009

To my fellow countrymen

Moths, battering at the source
of what appears as light,
turn, I implore you,
towards what appears as dark,
behind you, inside you, overseas,
utterly unadvertised,
in the as yet unplumbed depths
of your body’s cells, your slumbering
conscience, overseas,
there, and only there, will you find
not only your freedom
from the flickering porch lantern,
the sheer insanity of that,
but also your endless night of desire,
fulfilled and fulfilling.