full moon

when the full moon comes
everyone loses their eyes.
it is just a matter of 
whether you notice it or not.
we go outside to try to help others
before we help ourselves.
that leads to a quarry of eyes.
eyes in strawberry patches 
& eyes in the pockets of greedy men
who want to see more than they were given.
when i used to work the crisis hotline
calls always increased around
the full moon. 
people would say, "i need my eyes.
i need my eyes."
i would say, "i am here for you."
by which i meant. "i am here
for you in the dark." 
the trouble is that they mistake eyes 
for light. eyes for waking up.
once, my mother called & i pretended
not to know her. she said,
"i was eating the ceiling again
& then the planets started to blink."
what you see & what is there
is not always the same thing.
sometimes i see centipedes 
& they are really just seams where
one world bunches up against
the next. let's reject the blindness metaphor.
this is not about sight
but about control. if i can see
the hole in the ozone i can 
keep walking away from it. if i can see
my neighbors i can remind myself
i am not them & they are not me. 
eyes in the cupboard. eyes in the cereal box. 
the big secret is that the moon
is just one big eye. it always blinks
the exact same time as you
& thus we miss it. i didn't want to end
the call with my mother.
i told her, "we are alright"
& "tomorrow the moon will shrink."
deflating balloon. the stolen eye
with a little green halo for an iris. 
i pick up the phone & talk to anyone
i can find. i ask,
"whose runaway do you see?"