SEE ALSO THE LILITH GALLERY, THE ART HISTORY ARCHIVE & THE LILITH EZINE.
Poetry by Charles Moffat
A man walking naked in the desert A patriot overlooking his people Two lovers sighing in the night A lonely bum on the street Do they make a difference? The naked man effects no one The patriot looks but does nothing The lovers, entwined, fall asleep The bum dies in the gutters Does anyone make a difference? Or are we all bums? We all live We all die And nothing seems to change Except our ideas Our ideas make us Mold us Control us They're the means and the ends To our existence They are our immortality