Tea Party

Tea PartyMy eyes are worse. My physician is an inch under six feet. There is a gray strip in his hair, one, no more. He has a brown stain on his left cheek. His lamp shades are dark-blue drums. Each has a golden rim. They are identical. There is a deep black burn in his Indian carpet. His staff is bespectacled, to a woman. Through the blinds I hear the birds of his garden. Sometimes his wife appears, in white.He is clearly skeptical on the subject of my eyes. According to him my eyes are normal,...