The Lotus on Marina Bay Speaks | Poetry

Zoë Hitzig

I am master of the evening lightshow. Come 8 o’clock, sun gone, The people belong to me & my electric arsenal. They quit their shiny surfaces & sharp objects. Take off their pointing typing fingers, abandon their minute-made stances until tomorrow. For now it is time to watch lightforms dance color across glass & marinawater. Watch them gather, nod to greet each other, newly deferent. Here the black-iris bulb blinks...

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