My Third Eye
My third eye is
Stuck with the unfortunate view
Of the brass band that connects the two spheres of my glasses.
I take Advil for the head-aches.
Closing it doesn't work, I've realized.
When I close the middle eye the left and right want to close, too.
My face then becomes a mad-house of shuddering lids, like a giant sleepy baby,
I stumble through my days blinking and bonking into things and people.
I'm a little better at mastering the new eye every day, though.
Ever since it appeared between my eyebrows,
That day at the cave's mouth,
When I released my spirit from my body.
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