Myopia and A Bitten Back, A Poem
You can smell it on the air Someone's runnin' that motor Contrary like In places where the cyclops Is the only one who isn't blind-- If I drowned in the albedo, I suppose that happens. I think it always happens when you stand before the six-eyed dog the first time. Try to roll lucky seven and watch the dice catch fire. All the ladies will look askance Now the table really looks like craps. If I drowned in rubedo, I guess that happens too. Trying to break triangles is never easy. Do you know triangles? Do you know? You can smell it on the air Big packages of furtive data Passed among the app layers Testimonies of convoluted bullshit Magic meta squares of dubious accuracy Passed around like some clueless punk at a frat house hazing-- In places where the cyclops Is the only one who isn't blind, And a poison arrow called promise Took my last good eye.