Monday, August 23, 2010

We've moved again

Monday, November 10, 2008

after all these years...

it was a fault of shortsight.

to read chalk
on a blackboard;
the bridge between
seeing and learning,

built another
crooked bridge:
out of malleable bone
and pliable years.

And in the ninth,
heavy coke-bottle glass and names,
gave way to new sight
I could poke into my eyes every morning.

but still the nose
I wasn't born with,
I said, ruined by spectacles so early on.

Fingers in mirrors trying to undo
the done, see,
this is what I'm meant to look like.

but now I see pictures
of daddy looking away,
profiles of a man
with perfect sight.

and I see a bridge 
between him 
and I.

Fingers in a mirror,
tapping a line, see, 
this is what I look like.

Thursday, November 06, 2008

monkeys on typewriters 1

Click on graphic to enlarge.