LENSES


I was one with those voyeur stars;

I had eyes and thought I could see
through the hollow invisible NotSaids
that keep the planet orderly.

But “Orbit’s disjointed!” they say.
I need a new optometrist
“Magnifiers assemble the blaze!
the noose rope already twists!
and our sky’s unconstellationed!
we’re free to do within our chains!
and we hold too fast to conditions!
we must more dearly count the change!”

So, should I rage
or should I grieve
in my omniscient grave?

 

 

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Duane Vorhees

 

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