T H E E Y E C H A R T I scowl towards his voice. He says the mapmarks how far vision goes. If I could creep up close I’d learn the journey. His technique restricts me to a chair so he can track how far I travel down the chart alonebefore I pause. […]
A cup capsizes along the formica,
/ slithering with a dull clatter.
/ A few heads turn in the crowded evening snack-bar.
/ An old man…