A Curse, an Abomination, a Contradicition, a Daily Weight

Here's a chance to write in moleskine without abandoning the boorum & pease because I'm calling this a poem. I'm more interested in the shapes this pen makes on the page than I am what the words' penned shapes say. My left eye:

I am going blind faster while seeing better, I hear the sentence from afar but forget the words before I can write them down. Forensic scientists calculate ink evaporation to date handwritten evidence. Moleskine easier to write in than boorum & pease so sloppier script than boorum & pease, my front window's open, my smoke will be legal in twelve days, the neighbors' kids and the neighbors' friends' kids are in my front yard playing soccer. Haven't you wanted to hear what English sounds like to a mandarin-only speaker? That's not what I heard coming but what I wrote in this moleskine

Studs Turkel interviews Daniel Ellsburg
Our Ongoing March Into Dystopia And Oblivion
Scapegoating Politics: How Fascism Deploys Race, and How Antiracism Takes the Bait
Texas is our shitlords's make things shittier testing ground
Florida is our shitlord's make things shittier testing ground
Crisis, Rivalry, and the Fragmentation of Global Capitalism
I’m Fucking Agitated, Are You Going to Murder Me?
Strategies of denial: Bidenomics and geostrategy
JOE BIDEN HAS ADVOCATED CUTTING SOCIAL SECURITY FOR 40 YEARS
Reminder: poster child of the Democratic Party
Launching Capitalism Into Space
The biggest, deadliest criminal gang in America, Nebraska county branch
Cornel West’s confusing approach to Black liberation				FRESH HELL
His fifty years with Daniel Ellsburg
The Long War on Black Studies				→	Who’s afraid of Black Studies? White supremacists, fascists, the ruling class, and even some liberals.
Could You Decode a Message From Aliens?
{ feuilleton }'s weekly				Jen Craig's *Wall*
Avedon Carol's occasional links
MOLLY			McCarthy's landscapes
Art is something we do to ourselves
On McCarthy				His Bloomsday
We have a system which requires those who wish to be powerful to perform evil acts
Wanna from Heaven					Sunday reading
The Sundering of the Old and the New
The Psychic Paramount, N5 off the album II from 2011: song below
Riff on the death of Cormac McCarthy

THE BLIND MAN'S SONG

Randell Jarrell

I am blind, you out there. That is a curse,
An abomination, a contradiction,
A daily weight.
I lay my hand on my wife’s arm,
My gray hand on her gray gray,
And she leads me through empty space.

You move and shove and think that you
Sound different from stone on stone.
You are mistaken: I alone
Am, am in torment, and bawl
Inside me something interminably
Howls, and I can’t tell what’s howling,
My heart or my bowels.

You recognize the songs? You haven’t sung them
Not in this key, quite.
To you, at morning, the new light
Comes warm in your open house.
And you’ve a sense of seeing eye to eye,
And that tempts one to show mercy.