–after Pentti Saarikoski
In the morning on Theory Road
Ableists and doctrineaire landscapers accosted me
Told me I was sily wanting to go places like everyone else
A little higher up under my apple tree a fawn and her twins nosed fallen fruit
Malice, dressed as a bureaucrat told me to give up
His forehead wavy, eyes quite specific, didn't much like the blind he said
I climbed the steps to the dance floor
Late summer clouds calling me
To dance with them but I lay down on my back
& listened as if my life depended
Planet of the Blind 