Beneath the Cover

Judging you by what you wear or by the car you drive the words forever hollow whose bees have left the hive Taking stock while looking back through scarlet colored glass the vision false, the judgment worse its memory to outlast Forming all opinion by what is wrapped or clad deception in the present sense the view less good than bad Stepping back while looking in my eyes take off their shield to see much deeper than before —my prejudice to yield (The New Room: March, 2021)