Moth at a Lamp

Just one. A soul.
Window dark.
Circle of light.
I save her
By flipping the switch.

**

I am of course an inadmissable. Disabled upon arrival at the airline counter, at the cab stand, in the intellectual spaces of universities, on the common streets. All disabled experiences are a kind of Ellis island and there’s no help for it. As the old song goes: I just keep on travelin’ what have I got to lose?”

**

Here. I wish the moth well.