Friday, April 10, 2015


I have myopia; not its tremulous opposite. 

This fact usually pleases me, as much as it might.

Though, every now and then...

Somebody stands in my bathroom as we prepare to depart:

What are you doing? Those aren't eye drops, that's nasal spray. 

Now, you understand, you see.

The nose is the most direct path to the brain, we're told. Vacillators being just what they are. Eye drops are mostly lubricants, relieving pain over time. The curious strain of lids blinking. The friction of watching things like love arrive and depart. 

At some point, every person must decide how much nonsense it becomes worth to swallow.

If the eyes are the window to the soul... then eye drops are barely religious, more ritual than relief.

They make us seem. 


Let the lamp affix its nasal beam.