There was a billionaire
who appeared as a dazzling series of zeros.
He placed coins on our tongues.
There was a poet
lying on his back in the grass
his eyes eaten by clouds.
There was a woman
stitching a novel on the walls
of her heart.
There were two young people
rubbing an idea together
& producing light.
There was
the wind & farcical sunshine
on the green brow of a hill.
& perched
on the edge of the stage
two women in wheelchairs
who were delighted
by the man going by
on a unicycle.
Richard Langston
