Name: Eye
SKU: PBS0769
Availability: OutOfStock

Description

William Bridges was born in Indianapolis and published his first poem at age eleven in the Indianapolis News. He graduated from Franklin College in 1956 and has taught journalism there since 1979. He also served as a correspondent in Germany for United Press International, and a reporter and editor for several U.S. newspapers. In 1993-1994, he was senior copy editor for the Free China Journal in Taipei. He has published more than fifty poems in magazines and has self-published four collections: Common Places, Weedpatch or Jericho?, The Arafura Sea, and The Perfect Country of Words. He and his wife, Karen Petersen Bridges, live in Franklin, Indiana.

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EYE

If this window were a seascape,

the red car in the middle distance

would be a ship hanging

halfway up a gray wall of water.

I pick up “eye” and carry it around.

It turns when I do, bends,

gets up and down, looks

under, over, and inside things.

It is attached to “brain,”

which can be fooled. Last night I walked

behind a man who was walking faster

down Walnut Street. He shrank

until he was the same size

as television people,

then disappeared in the end

of a green tunnel. Eye,

how shall I be well

and artfully deceived today?

Additional Information

Weight	1.4 oz
Dimensions	8.5 × 5.4 × 0.1 in

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Eye

Description

EYE

If this window were a seascape,

the red car in the middle distance

would be a ship hanging

halfway up a gray wall of water.

I pick up “eye” and carry it around.

It turns when I do, bends,

gets up and down, looks

under, over, and inside things.

It is attached to “brain,”

which can be fooled. Last night I walked

behind a man who was walking faster

down Walnut Street. He shrank

until he was the same size

as television people,

then disappeared in the end

of a green tunnel. Eye,

how shall I be well

and artfully deceived today?

Additional Information

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Eye

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Description

EYE

If this window were a seascape,

the red car in the middle distance

would be a ship hanging

halfway up a gray wall of water.

I pick up “eye” and carry it around.

It turns when I do, bends,

gets up and down, looks

under, over, and inside things.

It is attached to “brain,”

which can be fooled. Last night I walked

behind a man who was walking faster

down Walnut Street. He shrank

until he was the same size

as television people,

then disappeared in the end

of a green tunnel. Eye,

how shall I be well

and artfully deceived today?

Additional Information

Reviews

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