Among the billions of people
Living in this
Empty world,
I am singular--


Isolated.


The skies are polluted by
City lights,
Would-be stars,
If only the world would let them be so.

For a landscape so luminescent,
This oil painting portrait reality
Is rather opaque
And lifeless--
A mere lack of sensation.
We swim in milky nothingness,
A blind man's iris,
Brined in its tears
And then drowned.