The mind's eye searches, muscles stretched
from ear to ear; the iris spins with stars that dance
and spin and shrink around a pit of darkness,
the point of consciousness: flashing lights
and loss of vision signify detachment.
Consciousness is focused by lens through the
humorless vitreous—a laser spotlight swings
about for the thought
on the tip
of the tongue—
pierces the retina, spiking down the optic nerve
back into the gray; neural networks fire chaotic patterns
and are recognized, a temporary
frontal self-lobotomy of introspection:
The mind's eye looks at itself
and sees infinity.
First published in Every Day Poets,
2012-04-24.
That magazine is gone, so this is the copy that’s left.
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