poem in Wordgathering, the magical ocularist, Zomb-Eye begins, and start of Austin recap.

Thanks to Michael Northern for publishing my poem about corneal sloughing and prosthetic eye (disability advocate) armies in the newest issue of Wordgatehring.

Here is the opening section:



reservoir for oculus sinister


i.

left eye
a broken pump
where iris flared
then rusted
the spigot

too much fluid
held to the back
while the front flakes
cells pressed
against lens slurry
and turn white

chemicals in
ophthalmic solutions
crystallize ocular tissues


This poem's appearance in Wordgathering coincides with me receiving my new, cosmetic eye shell from ocularist Willie Danz. When I close my eyes and think of Dr. Danz, I see a kind of  Joseph Cornell figure with a box full of  irises--grading subtly, perfectly, from blue to green to brown. He is magical. Dr. Danz. Also,  his assistant Rachel understands Medicaid billing better than anyone I know--and thus, is more than a huge chunk of the eye-making magic. They let me take photographs of the process. I am going to use these for a little zine about the rise and fall and vibrational shift (think 2012, annihilation or transcendence) of my left eye, tentatively to be titled Zomb-Eye!.

[Below, me with now matching eyes, albeit insane hair and an enchilada/margarita
hangover. And, with my Melanie, in Austin last week. I thought about taking my eye ball in and out on at the  dark/sparkly 80's night we went to, as part of my fluid goth dance, but it did not seem safe to bring my little eyeball suction cup handle on the dance floor, esp. not around so many sharp, plastic SXSW lanayrded bagdes.)

The oculus poem will be a chapter in the zine. For now, read the rest of it at Wordgathering.