From the Journal of the Kirk – “no hands”. -- On my bike and riding. The Cumulous are climbing and the asphalt speeding under .. Or, as it is, on the roof of my inner eye. Given that the image cast in my eye is upside down -- the asphalt streams just under my eyebrow like spackled jet stream while the sky, big and full, fills the bottom like lake. The sky in my eye is one Great Lake, Dear, and my cheekbone a dam!
This is really strange. I look at the whole outside world, and know that it is in me. These clouds and blue, the helmet blur, the blur of nose … all these cars and curbs, limbs, this chuck hole coming ……. Woo, a little close!
So, all this big circle of world and branch and sky stuffed in me. Talk about camel through a needle’s eye. Whole cities have crawled through my needle. I think of the Dutch boy and the dike, his finger stuck in the hole. When he lets go it will trickle, pour, then smash to flood. But that ain’t my eye. One quick flutter and a visible universe pops in, full and big, with no whoosh for the rush.
I am a wall, with pinhole pierce, bigger than the outside world. Not really. … I just don’t get it. How is it that this outside world is miniature within, and all with this terrific sense of space? I see "the thing" as "out there" -- having a real sense of big, hard, and distance. But the thing that is, is behind my nose, played like movie on a curved screen. Dear! And a double feature.
Posted by Kirk Jordan