See the image through a drop of water
Or an ocean; it makes no difference:
The object is vague as a bag of cherry jam
As if the connection between the brain and
The eye were playing a joke
As if a child had programmed the graphics
For today, and cleverly left out the line
Of code that distinguished between
Today and tomorrow.
As if I left my glasses at home
And my stigmatic distortion said
Here’s what it’s really like: Enjoy.
I wonder what my life would have been like
before optics. Could I have survived?