It wasn’t much, just a small journey.
You knew the one.
You put ink on it.
I was the small blind boy
Down the street.
They didn’t let me out either.
I think of your dashes as the marks
Of failing eyes. Of course
That’s me—you saw farther
And more often
Which is the way of those
Who lean at northern windows.
Let’s play a game
The one where we throw buttons—
The first to hit the mirror
Listens to the other
You know, tell a story
About the trip we’re going to take.
Planet of the Blind 