During the Invisible Man

The Clouds of filament have unyielding gaze,

Which no amount of clutter keeps from Prometheus' envy.

He leans down, holding

What shadows contain.

His Tartan Coat hangs on the hook.

The green armchair screams for blood in its folds.

Though switches are but a meter from him,

He still holds on.

Photo Credit: Jeff Wall, After 'Invisible Man' by Ralph Ellison, the Prologue. 1999-2000.

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