Myopic

Class project that I think went well, it came from a free writing exercise which only goes to show I may write better than I edit.

I was weary of nothing.

But, with my head on the desk the lines

Came close to clear in my jealous

world of blur.

 

“She sleeps,” she would blame in trendy tortoise frames.

I think I was marveling at her pencil skirt

that set her top half to the shape of an ice cream cone.

I think I breathed mother’s occupational hazard

the cleaning solution that clung to her day’s work.

But, I know I was yelling when I said I had to be

too close to see.

 

How many poems are about trees? Twenty percent?

Should it be added to the holy trinity? Love, sex, death and trees?

Yet, when I think of clarity, I think of those first few minutes

of concave plastic between the world and me.

When you think of oak trees one does not think ‘delicate.’ I do.

I think of those tiny oblong leaves, and in their numeration

I can see how alive a thing can be in its insignificance.

 

 

Fifty percent of poems are about trees?

When I learned the contacts I tore the packaging,

peeling tin foil back like snapdragon petals. I spent hours

trying to stab silicone vision into my eyes. When I was done, my

(what I know now to be) lacrimal glands were swollen enough to leak blood and my

(what I know now to be) scelera was so inflamed I could no longer recognize the vessels,

just pink veiled blossoms where white used to be. When I walked outside I knew

I would squint harder if I had to, to recognize the modest filaments that constitute the whole.

 

Eighty percent of poems are about trees?

Slouched over my desk, pressing my pen hard enough

to indent the underlying grain.

Waiting for her to call on me, to embarrass me, to catch me

unaware as I rest my head on my arm. Trying to work out

how many lines would I need to prove the beauty,

the need, for each curled leaf

on a Spanish oak tree.

Reviews

[zig]

you have grown

i like this. it has a certain smell to it... how do i describe the smell? yes, it smells real...

and if you think about it, i mean think about it really really hard, every poem ever written is about trees... really

this is great stuff amanda, good to read you again.
zig

[.]

GOD!!--what a gorgeous poem!!!
"How many poems are about trees? Twenty percent?
Should it be added to the holy trinity? Love, sex, death and trees?"
"Myopic Life"-indeed written so beautifully!!!
"how many lines would I need to prove the beauty,
the need, for each curled leaf
on a Spanish oak tree."
wow...i could go on and on about this poem...
just excellent - I Love It!!!:-)

james:-)