| |
Gathering In the Jettisoned
Dimmed Eyes crack their shells first.
You rise up in the half light of a fading moment.
This is the plane – wait, tie a rope
hitch it to a trading places moment.
When you passed away
leaving a layer of makeup and clothes strewn
upon a tilting floor
the mind went wandering on its own,
it returns now with the debris it found
loosely bundled into a persona.
Twist some knots into memory.
Plan a-head, then insert body
as an Allen key does into the right
socket.
Be sure to leave your big red heart plug
jammed tightly into this matrix of
electrified reality.
Loose ends can dangle for a while.
You’re within a workable shape now,
you’re fingers in a glove.
Time to shuffle self-consciously
from behind the lens,
let eyes see what no other being can see,
for your hand-made once more,
spun-out into an opaque silk by mind-moths
and now can fly blind
utterly unnoticed.
Copyright ©
Eric Ashford
|