May 14, 2011
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The buzzing of a naked bulb

hung alone from a dirty ceiling
The wavering shadows

cast by a single flame
A dying, withering lamp

glowing just enough to keep away the darkness

Who are we?
A hopeless people
No innovation?
Look at this all
Tell me we are not hopeless

An orchestra

Reaching the height of a staggering crescendo
Floodlights, fireworks
Sunlight on our faces,

Kissing us, caressing us, nurturing us…

We are illuminated.

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