widen your eyes!

because of the stretches and

crisp corners of a building against a colorless sky and

every single face caught in the wide cast net

of my gaze, divinely void of similitude but each so richly

familiar and

the neon yellow fast food signs that stir zest in my stomach and

the tacky clangor of capitalism red which should anger but instead catches my eye and hands

me nostalgia on a marketed platter and

the mere fact of phasmida, beings with such raw trust in their domain

that they’ve become one

and the same, that proof

of the potency of a faith and

the shape and shadow of a tired eye, the hypnotic swatch of a poorly shaven leg and

the family of jaundiced foam amassing on the pond’s meniscus and

that the entire world exists

like a magazine at the doctor’s office: for your viewing pleasure

and that contrary to hands and legs and eyes and phasmida, this list

is infinite, and