Plato’s Cave
Look at the blind beggar
Pitted palm outstretched
Listen to his chant:
“The forms are dead;
Shadows live.
Have you any
Alms to give?”
His eyes are holes.
Plato’s cave has been turned about
The forms are in it
The shadows out
Empty eyes in the bright,
Bright darkness
Luscious, liquid color
Pretty hollow talking heads
For the dancing eyes
Monstrous twisting lies
Devoured by the empty eyes
Eyes, eyes, everywhere eyes
Eyes without tears
Eyes without faces
Eyes without heads
Eyes without minds
Hungry empty eyes
The bombs whistle
The cave is sealed.
The reversal’s price
Shall be revealed.
In the great cathedral
The censors swing
The bodies of heretics
Mouths stuffed with myrrh
Ideas drowned in eye
Stinging smoke
In the crowded square
Waits the gallows
Trap doors
The killings never stops
While from the tower
Bells toll the hour
The eyes swing from left to right
Shadows by day
Shadows by night
Food for the empty eyes
Expensive courses
Of tempting lies.
“The forms are dead
The shadows live
Have you any
Alms to give?”
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