Blind Jack

The blind can be a little bit

Angry now and then

Trying to be independent

 

They don't want or need your help

Usually. They're a little like bees

You have to learn to leave them alone

 

But I remember one day when I

Guided the fingers of Blind Jack

Along the crease on the correct side of a milk carton

 

So he wouldn't keep opening the wrong side

Spilling milk all over the place

And getting angry at himself and everything around him

 

All he really wanted to do in life, he said

Was to take the shirt off his back

Sit on a rock

 

And let the hot sun fall

On his pasty skin

Then take down the Braille Bible

 

And feel his way through the solace

Of those verses

In a safe place in the mountains

 

Away from civilization

Where no one

Wanted to try and help him

 

And maybe rubbing some

Honey on his heart

Along the way