Jake's Flea Market

the   eyelid of blind heaven   
pulled back from the eye’s 
winter squint at dawn

from the horizon to the east
to the west the sky is   
eye white to the north
to the south 

look up for the german blue iris

far as your eye sees
there’s bone white cloud

look up for the coal black
pupil that’s caught sunfire

the sky’s all skull white fog

fear the cold 
white eye of blind heaven

hide from its   baleful
dead eyed glare

stay indoors

the afternoon drips   
the first flurries of a blizzard