glass eye we took our empty faces to the basement. fill the universe with the kind of sight you want. there are so many people walking around with pebbles in their face. they can hear the metamorphosis but then they never notice the dinner bells as they chirp across electric wires. tell me, what are you hungry for? i want to feed the night sky marbles. lie to the stars, saying "these are my many eyes." gobbling them. visions of fire & shape. iciles becoming teeth. the family jewels are a pair of eyes. glasses for seeing the highway signs. my exit is always just before the glowing elbows of god. i'd like to place my sight on a pillow & set it at the feet of a great chasm. don't tempt me again with falling. my glass eyes tell me stories of ripening clouds & plumetting pianos. we once found a trumpet in the closet. i stuck my hand into the bell just to find a little mouse without eyes. he covered his face & we gave him blueberry to see out of. i used to have a neighbor who didn't believe in glass. he grew cherry tomatos on his porch. said they were the only real way to see. living through the rot just to replace them. he held out a handful & ask if i wanted to try. i ran away. comforted by the smoothness of glass. the angles rolling glass with their firey hands. i look at the planets with my own little skulled moons. still, i wonder what my neighbor saw. some nights i caught a glimpse of him standing on his back porch & grinning at the tundra.