Nanny cam. Traffic cam. Bank machine eye. Facial
recognition software. I imagine being watched
which I don’t have to imagine. Facebook’s old
photos. Look at that hair! Avatars which used to
mean gods, maybe sitting on lily pads. By the supreme
power of my two-legged presence. Or two thumbs.
Maps in the front of books or the glove compartment
where there are no gloves. Every time the left hand
turn off of Clifton like a disappointed hummingbird.
Peacock’s eye. I have my eye on you. Dream
scraps invigilate the movie of my intention. Daisies.
Nipples. There’s you and the you you say you are.
Potato eye (gouged out). Eyedropper. I-land.
My stories are not about you. The small window high up
like a letterbox to peer through. Somewhere a crumpet of light.