For seventy years,
I have not seen depth,
(an accident of birth left me monocular).
perhaps explaining why
I can quickly get the
gist of a particular,
but have had to train myself
to parse its many peculiarities.

This takes work.

To understand the “Y” of a thing,
the mind needs to know the
T-U-V-W-X
of it as well,
thus making the leap to “Z”
a not so jittery mystery as it
otherwise might be.

Technology
has complicated that for me.

Now, they give me glasses in a movie.

(I have to pay extra for them, but let that be!)

These funny-looking, flimsy
plastic 3-D lenses
are supposed to help me see
the long fall from the roof to the street
more graphically
but they make no difference to the
anatomy or physiology of my blind eye.

(That would be to miraculous!).

But by some alchemy,
when the movie ends,
the monster bleeding green blood,
dead on a rubbled Tokyo street,
I climb into my car and start driving home.

(Yes, I drive. The MVA has been beneficent.)

But now, there is a

something

between the first red light

and

the second red light

two blocks away!

A space,

filled with a………….distance.

for a while anyway,

more than just my usual
2-D photograph perception.

It’s a tricky, temporary
deception
that cinematography
has created for
me.

Never-the-less
it lets me see,
briefly,
as a different me might see
without any 2-D deficiency.

And I think about
us
and
living.
And our deeply hidden
multi-dimensionality
and I wonder,
once I start seeing,
abnormally,
again,
how many different we’s
we might produce,
if we just learned to let
our many locked-up selves

get loose.