There was a time
when I watched this movie clip.
I saw it over and over . . .
In it, a small
squat boxy little car
had driven into view
stopping abruptly
as a side door
swung widely open.
One by one
an endless line
of clown-like folks
with so many
wildly colorful outfits
kept getting out.
I imagined it to be
only one person,
as that same person
getting out
over and over again.
In my mind
because of my condition,
I kept seeing this one clown anew
while none of the others
who had already gotten out
ever went away.
It got so crowded
until I couldn’t see
the car any more.
It was much like
staring at the sun,
one unit or less,
right before sunset
when reverse image darken suns
appear in multiples
from every eye fixation print
I was having.
There became so many
of these dark images
as to actually block out the view
of the sun itself, setting.
This also scared me
in much the same way
but I could not stop
watching for the last
nip of sun then
or the colorful clown flashes
of now.
So this too
was a person to me
who was a prisoner of a prism.
But for me,
for a short time
on that one-day,
this one image-replicating clown,
rather than like the dark blotches
blocking the setting sun,
seem to set me free.
Just thinking about it now
sets me free again.
Given the rise of anxiety
from both circumstances,
I wonder why.
Could it be prismatic delight
giving me relief?
Do you know what I mean?
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