Perfection transforms, its single minded commitment
to an oppressive obsession,
a robotic answer
to a rmuezzin's call
prompts the quest, elusive
as a light on a pitch black night when
barn owls snare
hapless mice and rest comes fitfully,
the imagined thrashing, its impossible
escape,
machine like claws, dreams
that grab in the dark
like invisible pincers,
like perfection
unreconciled with its adversaries,
daylight
love
sharing
democracy,
justice when the obsession
drives men mad,
turns them into grasping rakes
that clasp
like thoughtless talons.
(c)B. Koplen December 24, 2009
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