Was I Looking While The Others Weren'T Poem by Richard Jarboe

Pardon me, Mr. Beckett,
May I ask you a few questions?
Was I looking, while the others weren't?
Am I looking now?
When I see, or think I do, what will I say I saw?
That we waited for the eye doctor?

And in all that, what truth will there be?
With dim retinas and difficult light, should we trust recognition?
And in all that, what sight would there be?
We have time...to go blind,
Our heads are... full of visions,
But habit is a great cataract.

We'll wake, we'll see nothing,
We'll wipe our smudged lenses
And squint for the horizon,
But I don't want to squint for the horizon...
What have I just said?