Large Print Poetry

You direct my eyes
to the yellow door of the bookshop.

Help me when I ask. Don’t just pull me                                 to the side-

walk away from the
CAR!  
rushing down          
MARKET STREET?            
(if that’s                              
the street we’re on)                            
—What?                             

How am I supposed to read that?        

I design literary magazines with size 10 font.  
They say: Old people can’t read that.              
I say: Great, I’m 80. Have been since preschool.              
They say: Preserve the enjambment.              
I say: Do you want people to read this?                  

 
 
 
 
                  There’s no money in

LARGE PRINT POETRY,

or nobody thinks about LARGE PRINT
when line breaks are involved.
 
 
    Waiting for   the light     to change
I try out           conscious
acknowledgement     of
  the     saccade
    movement   of the
eye     and     damn,

that car behind us looks like a

                BLURRY
                                                  SHAPE.

and my eyes burn                    
but only the normal amount.