Get 20M+ Full-Text Papers For Less Than $1.50/day. Start a 14-Day Trial for You or Your Team.

Learn More →

Blind

Blind Do you think it’s strange that I always dedicate my poems to a blind man? He lives in a cardboard castle under the J railway. When I hear the high-pitched squeal of train breaks, I think of about his coat, dusty and torn, even when he’s somewhere else, like Wharf and Market Street, begging for change. Scratch that. He doesn’t beg, he plays his harmonica for paying admirers, while his eyes, no iris or sclera, just brown clouds, shift from side to side like a metronome measuring the song, low and fragile, that comes out of his instrument. Does it seem strange to you that, instead of turning my gaze inward, I point it at the world, changing people and objects into things that I can praise? 43 Do you think it’s strange, blind man, that I talk about you in the third person as if you weren’t here, as if I were afraid of opening my eyes, and seeing who you really are? JOSÉ ENRIQUE MEDINA http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Appalachian Review University of North Carolina Press

Blind

Medina, José Enrique
Appalachian Review , Volume 49 (3) – Sep 10, 2021
Download PDF
2 pages

Loading next page...
 
/lp/university-of-north-carolina-press/blind-BXy04jX04R

References

References for this paper are not available at this time. We will be adding them shortly, thank you for your patience.

Publisher
University of North Carolina Press
Copyright
Copyright © Berea College
ISSN
2692-9244
eISSN
2692-9287

Abstract

Do you think it’s strange that I always dedicate my poems to a blind man? He lives in a cardboard castle under the J railway. When I hear the high-pitched squeal of train breaks, I think of about his coat, dusty and torn, even when he’s somewhere else, like Wharf and Market Street, begging for change. Scratch that. He doesn’t beg, he plays his harmonica for paying admirers, while his eyes, no iris or sclera, just brown clouds, shift from side to side like a metronome measuring the song, low and fragile, that comes out of his instrument. Does it seem strange to you that, instead of turning my gaze inward, I point it at the world, changing people and objects into things that I can praise? 43 Do you think it’s strange, blind man, that I talk about you in the third person as if you weren’t here, as if I were afraid of opening my eyes, and seeing who you really are? JOSÉ ENRIQUE MEDINA

Journal

Appalachian Review – University of North Carolina Press

Published: Sep 10, 2021

There are no references for this article.