Dr. Genghis Chang, the Eye Machine, Meets Agnes Pincus
Under artificial light, the anesthetized patient lies face up on a table, the theatre of operations.
Her inverted eye peers inside the mysteries of her brain on an anamorphic voyage to Northern and Southern hemispheres, recovering things past and imagined.
Her retinas reattached, the cornea reshaped, the cataract of blind
thoughts removed, her once narrow-tunneled vision opens wide.
Enigmas resolve all ambiguities and she sees, even in the dark
passageway, each leaf of Beechen green; she sees among the leaves what she has never known.
Maybe she glimpses lemur-like genes, groggy myopic squints
spawning in planetary slime and fern-green complacency.
Yes, surely, in the immensity of time, she leaves the primordial swamp behind and gazes skyward.
Suppose, then, at that very moment, the insect-flowered world pops,
and she hears thousands of wisteria pods.
Yes,pods, like wings in flight, seeding throughout the universe.
She has struck her head among the stars.
Enraptured, Anges has a new slant on things.
The reawkaened Anges stirs and rises from the operating table like a runaway vagrant, meeting Dr. Genghis Chang eyeball to eyeball, hers clear blue, his with dollar signs.