Hitler's Ghost

When he looked at the lightbulb he saw a burning star.
A glimpse at the eternal light of the universe.
And then he realized all things were made of such stuff.
And so was he. And the dogs. And the lanterns.

Fortune found him littering on the eco-highway.
He wavered not, for he knew Zen was a bread bath, a sea of cheese.
He felt his stance was poetic.
But he was to discover he had no stance at all.

That night Hitler's Ghost discovered the path to financial freedom.
And the gods wept.
For tomorrow they were to relinquish their primordial hold.
And primordial holds were strictly their business.