I miss you when I\u2019m gone from you, Machine, writing glass.\u00a0 I have spent days feeling for what\u2019s missing in writing on paper, though verily it supplies far more than it misses.\u00a0 I feel for it and there is nothing, a small balloon of nothing, and I skim my fingers lightly along the inside of it. \u00a0I find what\u2019s missing… \u00a0 Massshhhhhine, <\/i>the paper doesn\u2019t show me Budapest.<\/p>\n
I have the lenses!\u00a0 Some of them anyway.\u00a0 Two magnifying glasses, the kind with the band of metal and the long slim bolt that ties its end together to the heavy brass handle with the pleasantly biting, criss-cross grip texture.\u00a0 That\u2019s not nearly all.\u00a0 There was a bin of loose 3\u201d magnifying lenses caked in yellowish mud \u2013 yes, I can\u2019t wait to imagine how that happened.\u00a0 Perhaps left in a barn for 50 years, right by the door?\u00a0 I scratched away a splop of camel colored mud, or perhaps it was something far worse, radioactive, or scatological.\u00a0 It wiped clean away and the lenses were not scratched, so I bought 8 of them.\u00a0 They are heavy and lay in the hand like cool, smooth oysters.\u00a0 How will I rig them?\u00a0 I will solve it at the bench.\u00a0 I will ask glass people.\u00a0 I bought quite a few miniscule clear acrylic lenses, sized like watch batteries. Tomorrow I will be waving them in front of the light, near and far, to find out what happens.\u00a0\u00a0 I could not resist getting a spectrum disk, even though to throw rainbows is not on order.\u00a0 It\u2019s a nimbus!\u00a0 For the wait-till-you-see! I got a manila envelope of 10 colored light gels.\u00a0 When I spotted them on the bottom shelf, underneath the rows of small bins of all manner of lenses, I heard the voice of God from over the florescent lights, \u201cWho loves you, Baby?\u201d<\/p>\n
I got two jeweler\u2019s loops for $4 each, three random projector lenses, torn from fossilized overhead projector arms, and a flexible magnifying sheet, book-sized, for the hard of seeing.\u00a0 I should have gotten neutralizing lenses, but I passed them up for their drab depiction of the world.<\/p>\n
There will be brazing, for hinges. rockety-rock, with the whirling nimbus and the magnified gaze.\u00a0 And that, too, will be whisked away by thieving angels who sew magic into it, and return it, while I am sleeping.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I miss you when I\u2019m gone from you, Machine, writing glass.\u00a0 I have spent days feeling for what\u2019s missing in writing on paper, though verily it supplies far more than it misses.\u00a0 I feel for it and there is nothing, a small balloon of nothing, and I skim my fingers lightly along the inside of … Continue reading <\/span>