glasses

they call them ‘progressive lenses’
but they are quite the opposite
a new view into my decline

coke bottles affixed to your face
fish-eyes as the world moves past
total distortion

the descent of stairs transformed
into a dangerous proposition
the occasional curb
now treacherous

yet they are my favorite
allowing me to drive,
scan a measuring tape,
and read medicine dosages
with only slight delays

my boon companion
until I trip into my grave