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New Poem by Ben Mazer

Eyewear returns to its tradition of offering poems by the American poet Ben Mazer on certain Sundays.



Untitled

Their floors and floors of unknown lives conspire
to neon, darkness, fog and rain and fire.

* * *

All lay in bed, and toss in negligees
or monogrammed pajamas, have their ways
of trimming their hair or doctoring their water.
One stares in blankness at the jewels he bought her,
goes to the window, braced to see the fog.
One fingers old certificates of stock,
and ties his tie. Although they all will die,
each one looks fabulous in evening dress,
and sloughs off the incipient duress.
The city is reflected in the sky,
has its own taxis, bars, Empire State
building. Theirs is a common fate.
The monstrous outgrowth of a humble start
crushes the spirit, suffocates the heart.


poem by Ben Mazer; published with permission of the author
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Wheeler Light currently lives in Boulder, Colorado.



Life Jacket

summer camp shirtsI couldn’t fit in then
are half my size nowI wanted to wear
smaller and smallerarticles of clothing
I shrunk to the sizethat disappeared

of an afterthoughtin a sinking ship body
too buoyant to sinktoo waterlogged for land
I becamea dot of sand