The Comedian
by s. lutjens

Wounded, Hounded
   He lowers his eyes
   and trudges forward
The bright lights
The flashes
Are too much for
   his deflated soul to take.
Talent, money are
   plentiful but not
   enough
He needs more.
   So alone, he
   dreams of innocence
   and beauty.
A love that is pure.
Who needs insecurities
When half the world
is expecting him
   to fail.
As they whisper
"Can he save himself?"
12/18/00
untitled
by s. lutjens

The vastness consumes
me as I become
  asphixiated in a bog
   of jargon and links.
No where to go, not
knowing what to do,
I wander the data
chips and fiberoptic
cables looking for
consolation.
My eyes strained, my
digits cramped I
yearn for the hills
and valleys of my
   memories.
  I have created my
own prison, lost my
  way, and thrown away
the key.
12/18/00
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