Sometimes it's best not to see the far away clear
On those days, I leave my glasses in the drawer upstairs
Under the plant that promises it won't try to die again
I can then wander down streets without definition
See Rorschach blobs advancing from three blocks away
And consider what kind of daydream or nightmare
I could be walking into
To see far is celebrated to the point of pejoration
My eyes may live to greater deterioration
But these connotative statements forget the thrill of impressionism
A walk in Paris on a Sunday can look like a stroll in Wisconsin on Tuesday
Greater degrees of certainty reduce by degrees freedom
That's my free will: the unknown advancing and only becoming clear
At ten paces from the front of my nose
Roman Ryan 