the eye haunts me
not by itself
but by what it represents
watching you watching me watched by me
and flickering, whites showing
staring sideways and i can only see
nothing but you seeing
nothing
surrounded by the inky blackness
of blind celluloid
of the past
worlds of universes ago
when we made order out of chaos
at show and tell
[inspiration]
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the sun shines brightly cutting through the haze into tight corners of the post-atomic daze the concrete alley floor, with its broken flow...
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for fourteen years i wished my father dead at the age of eighteen i buried him it would take another six years to be rid of his physica...
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