Light Bulb Poem by Erwin Maramat

In the beginning,

that beginning,

the universe was desolate and cold,

and out of the cosmic speakers came a voice

a warm, modulated voice,

a voice as if it were a reverberating tone from

a Fender 64 Custom Deluxe,

and the voice said, 'Let there be light.'

The current ran through a thin wire called filament,

and the neurons fired up,

Prometheus threw a party,

and the fields of light bulb grew and grew.

Over hills and mountains;

oceans and space;

the lights turned to vanity,

proud of how they were tinted,

lo and behold,

they bashed one another.