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.