currents
by Fernando Disla
First there’s lightning:
Current starter; room lighter; gear turner; fire sparker; pulse beater; dream igniter; mood
changer.
Then comes the lightbulb:
Flip Switched.
Mosquito Buzz.
Every crevice now visible;
Every shadow dispatched.
The swarm’s sound grows.
Ceiling lights become a lighthouse–
Calling your pupils to crash
It’s getting blurry.
Now it’s flashlights and late bills–except for power.
Cornea’s are burnt.
Moon’s too dim,
Sun’s too bright.
Your sight’s crashing;
Lava lamps line the landing strip.
Skylight projector.
The Big Dipper’s on your ceiling now.
Stars are tie-dyed.
The outlet’s bound to burst, if it hasn’t already.