Suppose stars under feet.
An error,
mistaking a puddle's reflection
for a fallen scrap
of starry black sky.
Golden calves gild
civic altars.
Behind tinted glass
the Hidden God
passes.
Astonished, I'm lost
to neon suggestion.
The Creator did not
extend His hand.
A pair of red beacons
recede into city's
Host of light.
6 comments:
who was in NY, the Dalai Lama or Bono?
Neither.
I can't read receding and not thinkg of male hairlines..
Who was the creator hidden from, the created? Does he abhor his creation.. a projection of self.
"I can't read.."
You should have stopped there.
Is that what you tell the hairline, when it's receeding?
"You should have stopped there."
I can't read "Neon" and not think of Nion...
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