Sensory Deprivation Flirtation Poem by Nancy Ames

(The speaker here is a typical celebrity fan.)

'You speak to me in radio-waves,
in transmissions cracked asunder
by intermittent storms and thunder,
but I'm just one of your fashion-slaves
and I never hear you.

You come to me in limousines,
but, high above you, jet-planes roar,
just when you're speeding to my door,
looking like you do in magazines,
and I still don't hear you.

You open a door behind me
but lightning kills electricity
and you stand there in obscurity,
wondering how you'll ever find me,
and somehow I can feel you... here.'