Glasses: A True Story, or The Truth at Last?

I lost my glasses, falling over drunk
One night, with no idea just where. 'd thought
I'd see things clearly, even in the dark?

Not so, it seems! To miss the fucking mark
Is far-more easy really than it ought
To be when stone-cold sober's done a bunk!

But, now it makes me think, what did I see
Before SpecSavers unbenighted me?

Would stronger lenses & less drink convene
To open Real Reality, Truth, The Way?
Or is it all just infinite regression,
Finer shades of grey with no progression,
Perfect imperfection every day
Without a hope of knowing what's been seen?

L. A. Barron


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