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 54.
The eyes will be closed, Dr. Freud,
But lately will be opened, cataracted,
Filmy with the taints of what has passed,
The blinks and glimpses of those times enjoyed
Or actuated by the will, enacted
Rarely, shall be culled and amassed
In memory, for all my days and vast
Glories of inconsequence, distracted.
But now we sense the Genuine, afloat
In Time's Agar, living in suspended
Juices, vague and dim, prepared to quote
A lifetime's skein of action, upended
Like a milkbowl spilt; it isn't wise
To look too closely with myopic eyes.
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