Emma, Who Stabbed Her Right Eye
by John Grey
They came for the
sight in your right eye
when the ones
who could have protected you
were busy elsewhere
reading or watching television
or staring out the window.
They said,
it’s back to the dark rooms
of childhood for you,
ghosts in the heat-pipes,
murderers behind curtains,
demons under beds,
the door handle
slowly turning.
But I still have
my left eye, you protested,
to see the world whole,
the time as it is,
the people complete,
to know where the contact
is coming from.
Then they laughed
like the voices once did,
deafening, blinding,
and out of your mouth.
_____
John Grey was born in Australia and has been a US resident since the late 1970s. He works as financial systems analyst. He has been recently published in Slant, Briar Cliff Review and Albatross and has work forthcoming in Poetry East, Cider Press Review and the Evansville Review.
