If God Had Meant Us To See The Sky, He'd Have Given Us Eyes On Stalks

Imagine my surprise, my perplexity,

groping around the living room while seeing the bedroom before me. 

Wherever I leave my glasses, I see what they see. They have abducted my vision.

Beware, junior. 

I can actually have eyes in the back of my head now.

Never mind the way I blunder into things.

Hello? Hi dear.

Oh, you say i forgot my glasses on your secretary's desk? 

Silly me! 

(That man-stealing harlot.)

Enjoy your meatloaf.

I made it by feel and it may have some unusual ingredients. 

Two forks? Pick one.

I always use the dog's dish as a salad bowl, don't I? 

Well, it makes a nice change anyway.

Ah! Thank you for bringing home my eyeglasses.

Now I can read your report card, junior.

And sign these divorce papers, dear.

Just give the meatloaf to Rover.

_________

for Sunday Muse #194.

Observations on The Construction of The Human Ear

Every ear is different, as unique as fingerprints,
and that is why the world
can speak in a million voices
and to each in her own particular language.

Same-same, the trick is to listen
to what's coming from every direction and to make 
nonsense into music;
foolishness into poetry.

If you can do that, the world will not seem so mean, so ugly,
but will, instead, whisper in your ear like a dream of the Divine.