Box of glass eyes

“Some truththing has burst fake and cold upon me” - Gregory Corso, Mutation of the Spirit

A box of glass eyes
At the Harvard museum
Glass eyes look at me with all the tenderness of
The glass Sea anemone
Or the violent topor of the glass squid
Or the hissing imperative
Of the nitrous spew scorpion
The dusty whimsy
Of the visible golden rod

As well I see the eyes
Thinking about me
Like the pacing
Dingos caged or
The butterflies cased before
Jerry Lewis comes dustingWaiting.

When the bones in the
Valey jump up and start
Dancing. When Sammy Davis Jr waddles agin.
The glassine eyballs too will fly
To their souls’ brilliant pyramids

For now there is
The pleasant rest of chocolates
In a box residing

Eyes Made by Von Meyer
The pipette wizard
Visage manifestor

Alchemist maker of the glass flowers people will visit
Mélange, transparent, fragile
Until the great day of rumbling.
Of great spirit dancing

Day of glass eyes leaving their box
Their case and the terra.

-- Jack Vaughan, Feb 2009