His frame of reference
is simply the frame.
He gets everything from
within the shell.
Eyes look inward at
the darkness, which
is all light
to his blind eyes.
Eyes, not used to the
light, look outward
blindly, wildly.
The body twists
in the wind —
up and down
and all around
like the giant Balloon Man
at the used car dealership —
arms flailing,
words castigating,
berating, humiliating.
What fun.
The blind guide is there
for the blind looking for
The Guide.

Where is the mystery?
Where is the wisdom?
Where is the humility?
Where is the modesty?
Where is the holy?
Where is the I and Thou?

There are only shells
in hell —
it is “a tale told
by an idiot,
full of sound and fury,
signifying nothing.”