The Left Eyeball
Fired and banned from decorating the
Halloween Ball in Elmwood Town Hall, the
moon-coloured cornea and
pupil and
bloodshot Left Eyeball had been for staring and
creepily weeping at leggy volunteers,
some of whom he’d brought to tears.
The Right Eyeball
Peeping through a hole in the wall,
a hole in the female bathroom wall,
instead of decorating the Halloween Ball
in the Elmwood Town Hall, got The Right Eyeball fired, and too banned from the Halloween Ball.
Too, he was fined. So, he went to Elmwood Mall.
In the food court, he was too broke to eat. All
he could do was bawl!
why do they call her eyeball faerie? I asked my Auntie Cow.
Just wait, she told me, you’ll see, here she comes now.
Giant eyeballs followed this faerie into our kitchen.
I am merely observing, not protesting or ’n.
The eyeballs glared at me when Auntie Cow invited faerie to sit.
She said “I have to ask their permission, or they all have a fit.”
I could not imagine being followed around by these bossy balls.
I would have drowned them in a lake, or made sure they had bad falls.
Eyeball
My left eyeball while I’m
asleep likes to
wander as far away as
Japan.
Single cell organisms
scatter the gigantic globe
(Ten times the size of Earth, perhaps the size of Jupiter).
We, mere humans don’t exist there.
We couldn’t, gravity is too strong.
Only amoeba like creatures could live there, alien planktonkind.
We would be too heavy, even children.
They exist many many light years away from us,
next to a Red Giant star,
just a sparkle in our night sky.
We share a common history inside the Milky Way galaxy, neighbors really.
They have vast oceans and land masses, just like Earth.
And as a single person contains trillions of cells,
organized to make us who we are.
Their planet may be organized too.
At least, I think so,
as I peer through one of our most powerful of telescopes,
I see what looks to me a giant eye
looking back at me!
How the world
should be
and isn’t
My choices
could
but don’t
What maybe
might
tomorrow voids
The spinning
vortex
—won’t
(Dreamsleep: December, 2023)
.
I
Rest on
One
Intimidation
Who
Coercion
Blinks
Threat
First, looses
Fear
Dare to look into
I trick
The eye of the Beast - to win
What is she making? Someone asks, wondering aloud.
She is a pretty girl, friendly, but not overly loud.
It looks like something red, someone replies. Maybe berries?
There is a little bit of tittering from the tea leaf faeries.
She is making eyeball tea, they begin to sing in rhyme.
It is lemon like, so fruity, we drink it all the time!
The elves are horrified, for they are a tiny bit prissy.
Come have some I say to my best friend and my sissy.
Eyeball tea! You are kidding! My sister says. Right?
Come and taste it, I tell her. It is simply out of sight.
Once you have it you will not want to drink anything else ever.
I see the elves and gnomes sitting back. One gives a shiver.
Eyeball god in mouth
Ostara?...Dio?...Luna? ...
Is light as hunger for colors?
Eros the god of eyes and the hidden feelings
shameful man with erect cock -- sighing sex
in his heart -- a crack, deep and wide!
Black Hole!
Punk rock for a Black Hole!
Rainbow and jubilee exploded in flood!
Like a ***** universe all of our pornographic desires
moments of starving stars and **** stars!
An eyeless god living in a glass tube with hearts
like hot flashes in heat-blasted rooms!
Pulsing pimples -- swirling while a midnight sky
brings forth a cacophony of cosmic screams!
More impassioned raw-animal! More barking!
more vibrations -- more imminence!
More sinewy limbs on show -- I'm looking at --
lifeless grey body but voracious pink face!
It licks and whimpers, suckles and sucks!
Shall I become a statue again? -- glazed face with eyes
sheers-white in precession of Venus?
Hey! Taint! Milk it!
:: 11.12. 2020 ::
Eyeball soup. Wonderfully tasting.
Deliciously made, sweet and pasty.
Cinnamon-seasoned, also some thyme.
Vegetable laden, scrumptious and fine.
Fisheyes are best, but goats are good too.
Nothing sooths me like warm eyeball soup.
Nagging pain invades my eye; the aura lasts for weeks.
Stabbing, searing hot poker jabs into my brain; branding my eye.
Migraine owns me now; there are no drugs to relieve my agony.
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