The day was nigh approaching, coming sooner than I wished <br />When I would have to pay a visit to the local optometrist <br />No longer could I reason that it was the font size which was miniscule <br />I'd have to put on glasses and expose myself to ridicule <br /> <br />She sat me on a chair and pressed a machine up to my eyes <br />Then asked me to read letters which kept diminishing in size <br />We then moved on to dots placed in a circular formation <br />And she asked me to look at them which I did with trepidation <br /> <br />First I had to view them through one lens and then the other <br />I had to compare their clarity, the sister from the brother <br />Many times, so many that I could barely even comprehend <br />Whose outline was less blurry, barely a second could I spend <br /> <br />Finally she made her judgement on the parameters of my astigmatism <br />By weeks end, after paying a deposit, a new pair of glasses I'd be given <br />Proudly I picked them up in their brand new case with spiffy cloth <br />At last I could see my screen without my eyeballs falling off <br /> <br />I put them on and peered through with an expectation of visual ease <br />But instead it looked as if I had acquired an optical disease <br />Sure the letters looked slightly larger, a plus in anyone's book <br />But why did the screen now have such a strange trapezoidal look? <br /> <br />(Sydney, Australia - 2012)<br /><br />Alessandra Liverani<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/spectacle-debacle-humour/
