2012 12 28
I stare at the bright television screen
and watch history of human action play
on stage of power directed by the Man
who hides behind gold mask of smiling pride.
My best friend in his business suit proclaims,
while teaching marketers how to sell pens,
"He scribbles verses with the snarky angst
of the weird atheist Puritan Jew."
I bow before the cheering crowd of zombies
who buy my book of poems I autograph,
then race them through the labyrinth of lies
that leads me to the pyramid of eyes.
I take a flying leap through the looking glass
and dream everything backward upside-down.