Watching a movie in which I'm in a hospital, being experimented on. They tell me it's like a dream (my idea, that I'm being experimented on)--that, really, I'm blindfolded.

The blindfold is so light, they say I can't feel it. (This is part of the treatment.) But I go to the mirror and scream: "I can see myself!"

The doctor says yeah, that's a funny thing.
How you think you can see.

Where there is injury
Where there is doubt
I am melting, or
being flattened by the peach cotton pantsuit,
the saxophone
saved for a new life,
turned into cash

to learn what is meant by:
a nice ass (braying) good
sex (boiling) liquid hours (stirring
with an iron bar, eating from your hand)

to read a few things
from: the file Ideas/Old Dreams
(his "eye" unseen,
the particular valuelessness
of a dead man's eyeglasses,
contact lenses)

Where there is despair
"Since the first log fell across water"
it happened like this:

"Doesn't anybody have the real potato salad?" Wandering from one (imaginary) picnic table to the next. The impulse to get under the table. The answer, in a way, is yes.

. . .