The eyes have seen such beauty they close - Robert Creeley
A boat in the middle of a wide field, sleep’s bird’s-eye view folded in.
Dreaming you can see the city without walls. 
Each house and street means something more. 

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At times a part of you stays home, another on the train
and another in your reflection in rain puddles 
and glass windows on the street.


A guide dog walks you out of the train car, the color palette muted. 
You are always where you should be. 


Yet it isn’t the same life every time.


The specular mapping on air columns vibrates 
at the fundamental frequency in a form of reality called consciousness. 
There is something like a secret thinking about itself so deeply 


no one’s ever known it, a greater consciousness that contains your own 
and all the others, a network of pathways that connect unwittingly 
and behave like a single organism out of conecessity. 


You contain more than multitudes: everything and nothing all at once. 
Nothing is the limit you must reach in order to change it. 
A loop entered and explored while you’re asleep restores the panoramic view. 
Daniel Carden Nemo is a writer, poet, and translator. His work has been long-listed for the Best Literary Translations (Deep Vellum) and has appeared or is forthcoming in The Common, Atlanta Review, RHINO, Full Stop, Magma Poetry, Sontag Mag, Exchanges, and elsewhere. For more, go to danielnemo.com