Mesh

Who are the lovers of beauty?
Where do they roam?
Do they walk the streets from night to noon?
Do they still bark at the moon?
Do they stand up when they drink milk?
Or stare at white screens and blinking yardsticks
as they wait for the Word?
Are they still watching like big eyed birds?

A thousand blinking screens
In a thousand milling cafes
Mock the thousand blinking stars
If you must
I really could listen to this Mp3 all night, you know.

Is there a place for talk,
A shave with care
A woman to hold you still in a chair
Where they still watch mosquitoes eat skin
Tend the fresh bubble, the red rash?

We, linked and lured
The bug zapper of the soul

A thousand blinking screens
Brighter than flesh
Grip the guest
Loved, loved and lorn
The roamers are enmeshed