NEON Poem by Ruth Lasters

Neon light, how it often starts flickering
when I'm aware of my futility. Coincidence, it's true, but

thinking of my cosmic tininess
I already saw (made) them blink: a mirror-fronted wardrobe's neon tube, the T

of Bar Tamar, the hat of Tio Pepe
advertisements. And that the popping of a lamp bulb in a window

can already cause minute alarm, shift
during the deed, so that a different sperm cell than the one from which we -

had made it. So lamp maintenance - may it
always be done with blind arbitrariness - is ethically a highly

charged business.