Tunnel Vision

By Paz Griot


Ain't no telling what we'll do

when our subway comes through

and our rhythm sparks the wires

with the pulse of our power.


Do you feel the velocity

of our vivacity?

Did you ever dream

we would witness the light

at the end

of our tunnel vision?


I wanna devour all your images.

I wanna leave my haiku on your tender areas.

I wanna sleep in the words you speak.

I wanna laugh at your shadow.

I wanna drop seeds and rhymes for you.

I wanna tattoo your eyes.

I wanna break and enter.


I wanna come out of hiding

and into your realm.

I wanna shake my religion

and scratch through the ceiling.

I wanna embrace these colors

and enhance this feeling.

I wanna love ambiguity

cuz it's more than drugs you're dealing.


I've felt the darkness

and the weight of this fallen wall.

I've felt my body bleed

beneath the cars on the street

and now I'm pushing back

against engines and glass.


Last night you looked like chickenshit

but I was hung over.

This ain't no AA meeting

and I don't need to stay sober.

Take me through the tunnels.

Don't let go

of these trembling hands

or these grimacing eyes

that mourn

and see the world

through tunnel vision.


I might fall through the tracks

and crush

under the rushing bodies.

Catch me when I crash

and don't overreact

when I stop making sense,

when I curse the ground I'm crawling on,

when I spit at rising demons,

when I break out in scriptures.


Sing your melodies

and build a sanctuary

outside the traffic

for my wounds to expose

and my voice to heal.

My tunnel vision

is about to derail.


Paz Griot is a spoken word poet, visual artist, actor, playwright, and performer originally from New York City. He now lives in Istanbul. He has written and published several poems, performed in countless plays and open mic events, written seven plays and exhibited his paintings, collages, and sculptures in six gallery shows in New York. He is currently writing his eighth play, and is launching a Zen meditation group.