, , , , ,

1:56 pm

Blindness.  I wonder what they see?  Can do things we can’t.  Read with their fingers.  Senses heightened.  Nose like a dog’s.  Why then do dogs eat their vomit?  Must smell good.  Fingers feel things the rest of us miss.  Feel a fingerprint.  Feel colors.  Maybe they really can smell fear?  What would that?  Smell hope.  Smelling into the future for that, for fear too.  Whiffs of things to come.  That’s one way out.  Smell your way.  Taste.  Better with eyes closed?  Helped that blind kid cross the street.  Piano tuner.  Sizing me up by the feel of my hand.  Pious looking face.  Penrose!  That’s the name I couldn’t.  Penrose.  Wished I could have sniffed that one out back when I.  Smell coming events.  What do blind people dream?  Smells and tastes?  Dream the feel of a woman, this curve, that hip bone.  Taste and feel together.  All of life, every part of every now would be a dream.  Maybe a nightmare.  Next step could be your last.  Could fall into a manhole and need Tom Rochford to fish you back out of sewer vapors, smell heightened.  Choked.  Breathing your own death.  Fall from the dark into blacker than dark.  A waking nightmare.  And yet, we all.  More or less all.  A waking dream for us all.