From the recording Riversdale
A metaphorical and philosophically playful poem about identity, perception and the human instinct to make reality conform to expectation. As certainty begins to fracture, the mirror becomes less a reflection of what has changed than of what was misunderstood — suggesting that sometimes it is not the subject that requires correction, but the way we have learned to see it.
Lyrics
The Correction of Mirrors
Alec laid an egg.
The room applauded.
Breakfast forgot to end.
Ontology stirred the spoon.
The room brightened around the yolk’s small sun.
Talk of seahorses
and clownfish,
the creatures rewriting who carries who.
How does an egg
get itself into a cage,
and what reflection would they correct
in a mirror that wavered?
We should have left
the feathered philosopher to his grammar.
Was there something in the well—
a sense it didn’t explain?
The seeds listened
but said nothing.
We fed him emptiness.
The egg unsettled the mirrors.
Alec became Alice.