THE LIGHT UNDIMMED BEHIND NEW EYES BY HENRY 7. RENEAU, JR.

as if imagination were a net


in the language of children, seeing things


that are unseen, plumbing the depths


to capture the sun, the four winds & the moon




too soon, a mind muddied with blind faith &


desire, a diet of omission, with its substance


of things inveigled, as if from a dream


the rest of her, sequestered




as a child, she had a gift, a vast forever &


everywhere at once, like staring at neon stars


painted on the ceiling; she saw things


she thought lived in the sea


looking into fathoms deep water & seeing


fantastical things from the other side




when she grew up


the gift vanished, just like her parents


said it would & she saw the world


as it really was, with all its saccharine lies &


tricksters that persist




the here & now present tense


armored in a carapace of denial, like cherry pits of


restraint, or the arresting governors on U-Haul trucks


her worry beads of conscience


rummaging through a mouthful of sunflower seeds


for one grain of sustenance


the sexual whispers of Puritan taboo


sanctifying a calibrated red zone cautioning abstinence


in the face of adolescent hormones &


the horizontal seduction of peer pressure




guilt, became the broken key


in the unlocked mind, begging audience


for the apathy that goes along to get along


a society of obfuscation, like toothless particles


of need hoarding the truth: it's complicated,


that which she lay down in the center of &


good as dead died