futurebird's Diaryland Diary
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lights out
The lights were out on broadway.
Outage
Our metropolis of alphabet blocks
stacked in shambled, spiral knots
shimmied up so bright and high
we scraped the heels of god.
In a flash, without thinking,
He batted away our wax and strings,
and there we lie blacked out.
Bewildered, we tumble to the streets,
squinting for once at the sun not the neon,
we cluster at any radio as an alter.
The news tells us what we knew:
We are only a bunch of humans,
too many for this island,
and all
powerless.
It feels like the end of the world. The lights have gone out on Broadway.
Perhaps when the battery in this laptop stops so will everything I can write here.
Sirens outside.
We have no candles and night is coming.
5:09 a.m. - 2003-08-14
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