The Dancing Lantern
Parts the soaking crowd
With one blinding wave
Of his right arm.
Sweat clings shirts
To bodies
As the masses dance
In rhythmic homage
To this faceless god
Walking amongst them,
Arms out-stretched,
A green beam of light
Arrowing from his eyes,
Above the revellers.
Dressed in plastic white,
Shrouded in
Miscellaneous light,
He is Jesus incarnate:
The women flock to him -
Seeking to freeze-frame
This second-coming
Systematically recurring -
While the men
Gaze enviously on,
Wishing to have
His occupation,
The best job in the world:
Uniting the mindless
As one prophetic vision
Of fist-pumping colour.
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