The first eye opened
No one was there
Hence no history
Just darkness
And something
Less dark
Aunt History
Gets it
All that fol de rol
Of boy philosophers
Turning their faces
To the sun—
She calls it
Zarathustra shit
“Look! I know more
About the light
Than you do!”
She understands
Darkness
Is a bell
And anyone can ring it
Even the blind
Aunt History and the First Eye