Eyes tell us nothing but everything is lost
Organ of sight
mixed in lore and born to spheres
I want always to see everything without myself
In lieu of the eyes of another
one makes do with nothing
In a film a razorblade cuts an eye
opening up a world of frogspawn
globoid, gizzard eye.
The education of looking is an education
in all departments of knowledge
Without eyes inside bones seeing is nothing but meat
If I love then it comes only with the vision of another
If I ever die with my eyes they may be sown to the sky
The education of looking is seeing bones with eyes
Can you see an eye with an eye?
What a question creeping along as eyes do when they look
No one questions other eyes until they see
And then the gizzard is cut from inside
with two or more lives in single eyes
Look. I don’t know how your eyes see but they welcome me —
cold as the air touched them.
And I felt for a second all of you.
An eye can be kept in a cup for days which means seeing is a container
Inside buildings which hold things
eyes see as colours melt into metal spoons with curved edges
On their side spoons are lids which means pudding is a kind of eye
In an eye I saw my face
looking onto you and me together in layers
And the only sight was a Godly one
which I can’t make head nor tail of sure as eyes teach us nothing
The art of looking is not a single image but the art of something as it closes
She tried to parse whether she was in this —
reading out loud the various eyes.
This poem was written to be read aloud, and appeared in a film by Carlos Jimenez on the late artist Stuart Croft.