IM squezzed into this empty box,
engulfed by some restless
thoughts, and reading a language
that only the bipoler peaple can
hear.
FIRST its white,
then its green,
then the apostles start to scream,
turn on the lights,
turn on the lights,
turn on the lights, and watch the
shadows slip away.
DAVID GERARDINO
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/23-fitzroy-road-empty-box/
