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Eye-Crowned


In the oasis of interior rest, come
lie with me on a cushion
of quantum foam

in a sea of dark matter becoming
lighter, like the insight of the blind—
not caring if being watched or not

seen at all, or seen with that look
of the Law: implacable, insatiable, silent
as night holding on to the eyes of the blind.

From ballpark, birdcage, balconies, and malls
comes from all sides a thousand-
sided mirror of a thousand-sided sky

blue that never arrives but stays
wound around the crown
of a human's—who knows why?—

happy or sad eye.


Jack Marshall

Fugitive, in Full View
Coffee House Press


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