"Where are your eyes?"
I've inverted them,
Pointed them inward.
"How is the blindness?"
No worse than my sight.
At least I'm aware.
"What have you seen?"
Nothing of value.
A web, call it synapse,
A flash with no light.
"Why did you do it?"
Engineer of my vision, you pointed me outward
When I wanted the innards of self to be holy.
I have waited too long for the grace of perfection:
It is shifting—one day it's a smile in the deli,
And then later it seems to be meat on the counter.
I'm confused by the scales which can measure the lifeless
But can't quantify all the intangible values.
Everything's tainted with sight. I'm imposing
Thoughts of no use in this river of matter.
I color the flickers of light in this market—
So, better to see one thing clearly—else nothing.
"(AP) CIUDAD JUAREZ, Mexico - No one knows how many residents have left the city of 1.4 million since a turf battle over border drug corridors unleashed an unprecedented wave of cartel murders and mayhem. Business leaders, citing government tax information, say the exodus could number 110,000, while a municipal group and local university say it's closer to 230,000 and estimates by social organizations are even higher. "
—Associated Press, Dec. 30, 2010
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