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.

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