Inquiry Into Sense
Out from the kaleidoscopic tesseract,
Pours coruscating crystals whose edges contract.
A turn of the cylindrical vessel in the vain,
Splits the sight into three of the eyes in the brain.
I talked to the man who says one times two is a dozen,
Not knowing which sense sometimes seems it doesn’t.
Copyright © B. Joseph Fitzsimons | Year Posted 2018
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