Lie there faking death - a cat would love the
repose of night, like sleep, but impossible from
the position defending the castle, the moat -
but all the time we can't really sleep - not like
the time we closed the gates, the moat full
of gators and such deathly notices.
I took it as my last chance to see - all that
it takes to recover the retina - the dazzling display
of a cartographer - lastly make sure you use
the appropriate colored markers to see your
life flash before the Hymilayas, as they take
on red - like you dare to publish this without.
And then I'll see you down there, or at least I
will look for you in covers, in likely places that
you would hide, though easy to fool I am while
try to spell doom for corrective lenses.
And then it will all be fine, requiring some binging
on nasty water, trying to fake well water.
From here I can't really see much of anything -
buy faking a nicely placed monitor - watching how
observant I am, looking, seeing, but not really
giving credence to doctors orders. Then renewing
my vows to optical clarity, the amazing fast from
water, clover, greens and anamolies.
© 2016 Larry Ingram
Welcome to the poetry web site of Larry Ingram. Larry is a poet, writer and observer of our culture.