Master: I plucked my eyelashes, nervous, blind,
told my mother, “It’s what I do” (how else
to explain Stukas straight to the eyes—
she wouldn’t know a Stuka, I’d have to explain,
then it would be back to the shrink
who’d ask me again to draw pictures,
who in turn wouldn’t understand
drawing when blind is poetry itself.
Planet of the Blind 