Think of the front of a shop which you often go to. Consider of the shop from across the road, the apartment above it, the tired of individual items for sale. Try not to think of the low roar Let’s try to keep this visual. You approach the entrance. Consider the waft of incense and bleach as you enter. The counter assistant head, and shoulders. Don’t think of the sound of their voice, in your stomach, how you sway a little, uncertain. Just relax. watching you, hands folded in front of them. You haven’t responded. while you hesitated, and everything from their shoulders up the scratch–and–wins under plexi–glass, the rows of chocolate bars, behind you. Ignore it. Something shifts and rumbles under your feet forward. Consider the pose of their head, the attitude of their body a forgotten pit, or their voice as dry branches dragged over gravel. as responding. If you understand what this is, then you know the canned goods that line the right side of the aisle, the breakfast his eyes glaring like high beams. Don’t think of your fingers straining across your abdomen. Look up and you will see a starless night. Acknowledgement: https://davidfmarks.com/2020/03/10/vividness-of-visual-imagery-questionnaire-vviq/ About the Author Rocco de Giacomo is a widely published poet whose work has appeared in literary journals in Canada, Australia, England, Hong Kong and the US. The author of numerous poetry chapbooks and full–length collections, his latest, Brace Yourselves – on the representation of the individual as it relates to the Zeitgeist – was published in January, 2018, through Quattro Books. His next collection, Casting Out, will be published in 2022 via Guernica Editions. Rocco lives in Toronto with his wife, Lisa Keophila, a fibre artist, and his daughters, Ava and Matilda.Vividness of Visual Imagery Test
the picture that comes before your mind’s eye, the appearance
brick. Consider the window display including the colours and shape
of traffic, the harbour smell in the wind when it comes off the lake.
the colour and shape of the door. Don’t think of the jingle of the bell,
greets you. Consider carefully the exact contour of their face,
how it’s wrong today. Don’t think about the ball of anxiety
These elements are unimportant. The counter assistant is still
You look again, but it’s hard to see. The tube lighting buzzed and popped
hangs in a guillotine dark. You step closer. Consider the counter,
the metallic pastels of their wrappers. More lights buzz and pop
and a finger of wind trails up your back. The shop assistant leans
as they lean in. Don’t think of their breath as something pulled from
They whisper, “it’s time.” Ignore it, and don’t think of yourself
it’s too late. As you are carried to the back of the store, consider
cereals on the left, Captain Crunch peeking out as you are wheeled past
for any purchase as you pass, you hands are bound in peace
Look down and you will see that God has opened one last door.
