whose mental eyes are blind

an ode to the multitudes, inheritors of earth
whose mental eyes are blind;
to the cities of Babel who built anthills in the sky
to touch the face of God. 

an ode to the awe-inspiring
inventors and innovators and makers of myths and stories and images,
and man of the limelight hour.
an ode to scaling TV towers,
skyscrapers and arching garden bowers;
to glaring white signs of wood and holly,
in all man’s folly. 

a praise to multi-million dollar enterprises,
and sweaty-palmed multi-million dollar executives;
to antennas and satellite dishes and satellite gods that probe the womb of the earth;
to the virgin birth of silver-screen heroes,
and to painters of the American Dream.
a tribute to drama, our queen;
to the glory of the seen;
to computer-generated flawless faces plastered on the page;
to the bold and daring reinterpretations of Shakespeare, our sage;
to the darkened world of the popcorn-soda-twizzlers-m&m stage.

an ode to the hidden shadows of man and a vegetable audience;
an ode to an age whose simple, humble past remains forgotten,
and whose outer beauty—
though radiant in its viewer’s eye—
contains a hidden core
now rotten.

                                    — September 23, 1999