I come to palace w/ complaint of myopia
but Assad, he order root canal, instead—
“Root canal!” he shout behind ear &
rip open door to corridor where men in fatigue
crash into each other “oof!” & “dumbkopf!”
their paper like firework explode into air
then fluttering down to earth like autumn
Assad is gone many hour but I sit in chair
(rocket make Mach One near windowpane)
until new morning when Assad return w/
nurse & hammer & plier & elephant bandage
he have cinderblock dirt on face, on forearm
I tell him “myopia better!” I cover eye &
read imaginary chart—I do this for my life.
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