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
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Welcome to the poetry web site of Larry Ingram. Larry is a poet, writer and observer of our culture. Categories
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