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Dec 2018
On my eleventh birthday
Dad gave me
this book -
The Eyes of the Killer Robot.
Inside the peach
cover was
gothic baseball,
malevolent wizardry,
small breath
horror, and
magic, cut
with 1950s
science.

In the book
a madman
learns how
to extract our eyes
and uses them
to power
an evil
golem ace.

This morning,
twentyseven years later,
in the pre-Christmas rain
that pools black
in the brick
I suddenly wondered
if Dad
with his incurable
glaucoma
his eye drops
and surgeries,
realized he'd given me
a book about
the fears
of stolen eyesight.

And the son
came to know
what the father knew:
the terrible softness
of a trembling eye
under the blooming
steel of
the speculum.
Evan Stephens
Written by
Evan Stephens  39/M/Washington DC
(39/M/Washington DC)   
743
     Shiv Pratap Pal and L B
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