Change you lens,

eagle eye, who of the eye

inside the solitary plight

discerns our pentad vision: overripe

with images, carved like woodcuts

Hardened avocado, the golden eagle

I thwarted over; her genitalia a filamentous membrane

the love lattice of a network

preventing I,  the mind’s eye, from seeing how it is.

Inflicted with diplopia, I see two suffering men.

Tri-ped Eli tripped up with her

straw-like legs, foot heads

on pointe; the golden gonad rolling in between

like a third eye of movement, fastened by your chastising

hand.

Alongside wings

are clouds, clouds of nets

canonized by cherries, a cannonball for a heart;

the solitary eagle eye, and her pterodactyl mouth

squawk in feathery angst.

You want to fly?

Over a green screen: insert any reality you choose

only please pay homage to the beaten soles, the heads on feet

lured into waiting.

Hardened fruit ripens long before it rots.

© Richie Smith