The 4th eye

FOURTH EYE


through a veil of mirrors
fumes as we climbed down to
where headwaters once raced
but found only sand and shells

down from sodden forests
past fish bones etched
in a slab of brittle wood

trees eating the pink wound
in the sky long before it
could begin to bleed

that eye turned inward and
the leather faces squashed
black by time and muck whose
pictures made Freud faint

that crawl space under
the stairs filled with
mouse skulls

we knew the future was
closer now than ever

the dark corner of the cellar
where the world ends



ERIC BASSO
August 23, 2012