Lloyd Schwartz is a regular commentator on NPR's Fresh Air. His
most recent book of poems is Goodnight, Gracie
(Chicago, 1992). His work has
appeared in The New Yorker, The Paris Review, Poetry and many
others. In 1994, he was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Criticism. Currently, he is
co-director of the Creative Writing Program at University of
Massachusetes/Boston, and Classical Music Editor of
The Boston Phoenix.
Shut-Eye
He dreams he's shooting himself in the eye his left eye the barrel right up against the
eye he wants to blast open his eye his eyes shut tight stuck can't get them to
open the dark (how dark?) so dark he can't he can't breathe the steel cold
against his eyelid he angles it angles it up under his eyelid wedging it wedging it up
under his heart pounding under his eyelids one bullet could tear apart the barrel heavy
against his trembling finger squeezing the trigger his heart pounding the dark so dark
he's he's his heart pounding his suffocating his trembling finger squeezing the trigger
till he almost hears the shot that opens that blasts open his eye his eyes
