Let there be light,
turn the knob twice.
Curled, coiled,
incandescent filament
glowing white-hot,
between two prongs,
helping us bear witness.
Until it pops,
and everything stops-
a blue spark,
flashes twice as bright,
when it’s burned for too long.
It all comes crumbling down,
both pins drop
all the dancing cherubs
they once held on their heads.
You’re distracted,
by the floating, bluish,
inkblots that slide,
away from your line of sight.
You ask yourself
“how many idiots does it take to screw in a lightbulb?”
In lieu of taking a shot
in the dark, you quietly exit
to find a replacement.
The File Pile 