Eyewear - which will be publishing a novel of his in early 2015 - is very glad to tonight present a new poem by the significant American poet, Alfred Corn.
Mornings, early, others make themselvesat differing levels heard and even felt,at least, if you can guess the gistof another life from sound alone. Like the enviable neighbor coupleWho shift and stir less than an arm’s
lengthbehind the headboard, their murmurssifting into consciousnessas though no sheetrock intervened.It’s the sonic ambient for one lastunderwater, shut-eye scenario,which holds until the alarm starts prodding. Downstairs, would that be a he or she who in chilled gloom grinds french roast for the day’s first espresso?And not just once but vibrantly againafter what must be a caffeinated interval.Alertness has its downside, though,delivering this thought: the practiceof selfhood turns into addiction. Heavy boots not muted by rugs clunkabout on the floor above. Monthsof obstinate slogging guarantee their pac…