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Poet, writer, impresario
T'Lee Logan
The Manic Poet,
and His Neighbor
O mock angels, burning, spewing forth light,
What have you come to do? what joke do you
play now, with your white shine and unjust love?
Were you hidden when I played out my life?
When I shattered the glass nightmare I found
at every turn of my existence?
On that bright day I fled the stink of life?
Strange you should come now when I need you least...
A dank book on a dark subject, but if you can face the darkness in a book, perhaps you can better negotiate it in the daylight.
Prescott Carson
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