Eye Doctor Poem by Hans Ostrom

Asked to read lines of letter and numbers projected

on a wall, my eyes confuse G with O and 2 with Z.



The doctor puts large drops of rain in my eyes,

and my eyes get stoned.



He puts a contraption on his head. To my eyes,

it makes him look like a cyborg ant-eater.



A gentle torturer, he shines bright light behind

my eyeballs, and I feel like I'm in a movie from 1971.



He tells me I have "divergence inconsistency"- one

eyeball's a lazy focuser, or is on a work slow-down.



When the doctor giggles, he sounds like Jim Backus

as Mr. Magoo. My ears see the humor in this.





hans ostrom 2018