Intimate News
–after Borges
I was walking in the garment district of Manhattan, making my way down the
shady side of the street. I was careful in the way of all blind people
since I couldn¹t tell the pavement from the sky, couldn¹t find the bottoms
of puddles.
Being blind is, finally, to become a kind of working angel: life graces your
desires but you must keep moving.
Then my guide dog walked me around a dress maker¹s dummy. I thought how
the womanly torso and the darkened man were both pared to their essence:
she swayed in wind and traffic, I dipped in the weighted seconds.
Androgynous couple, we respectively saved reality¹s honor.
Planet of the Blind 
I would’ve formed my skull in a shoe box & risked being called a Leno, to avoid being avuncular. One is younger than I & a bit of a goof. My grandmother should’ve been gently caned but a late inning baby in your arms is a baby in your arms. I’ve another who sports a toothless mouth & that’s when he’s dressed up. The last on my paternal side has facial hair like a circus act. All of my life, there were wildly shaped east west sideburns, sometimes moustache connected sometimes not. Beards of weird & incredible sideburns that would make Elvis’ corpse shave his head!
On my maternal side, a pretty cool guy, but died a couple of years back. With my 2+ year old A.L.S. diagnosis it seems that I’ve got a case avuncular with my mom’s brother. I’d like to negotiate for some dentures, please.
LikeLike