Burning the Light


A mesonoxian skyline
falters, similar to Christmas lights
when one bulb is stubborn.
One link in the chain is brittle and rusted.
How all the buildings lack the ability to
walk single file, splattered all over the place,
fortuitously. Broken spectacle punishes the eyes
with flashing strobes picking their own
time to illuminate.
The working lights are as random as the midair specks
gathering speed to crash into oblivion.
The randomness of it all is as irritating as it is refreshing,
taking a page from Mother Nature’s book of splendor.


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