A poem I wrote.

"L is for many things"

Idolization has long drained

from the carcass...
the unequivocal slit open neck.
It should be easy to turn away,

remark things as in the not present
and speak of real things, now.
The immaterial and the material
dancing on the same floor.

A deaf mute response,

learned through many lessons,

repeated....
The great enlightenment of

a hundred florescent watts

hum,

heard with the eyes,

and seen only by the I.

Vista Drive