For a light to read, “An Exit,”
At the perimeter of a room,
Does it have to shine, a light –
so bright it beats the moon?
For a girl to be a lady,
At her foot, a Fool may swoon,
Does she have to light, a pipe –
packed tight, she’s stoned ’til noon?
For a brain to reach potential,
To form its own cocoon,
Does it need a tasse, a mast –
to outlast the Gate’s harpoon?