I was sitting down one day in class and I began to think of ways I could make up some funny sounding words, the first of which became Exispheles, which I sort of got from a combination of anopheles and existence, although I don't have any clue why those went together.  The next word I came up with was Inuncrastication, sort of inundation and procrastination and mastication all in one.  Don't ask.  So now I had these weirdish words, and I needed something to flesh them out.  So once again I was at work, and this little ditty popped into my head - "my disserving discerning eye had been my means of getting by..."  I think I was thinking of Poe's Annabel Lee at the time, and his line about "ever dissever," so I was trying to sind other s-words that might sound interesting with the prefix dis- but that weren't really bruited about that often.  So somehow I came up with disservice, which made me think of discerning because they sound sort of alike; from there, the line sort of wrote itself.  And then I sat on the line for a while because I couldn't think of where to go with it; when I finally picked it back up a couple weeks later, I decided that not only would it make for an interesting time to use an experimental word as a title, but it would be interesting to use an experimental form and structure, which I did.  I wanted to write a sort of poem within a poem, to make a coherent poem made up of stanzas that in the right pattern formed coherent poems in and of themselves.  The only problem then involved finding the right topic for the poem, which I decided I would take from the image of a disserving discerning eye, one which was highly scrutinizing of its world in a way that was not productive for its owner.  So I just began filling out the lines as they came to me, although I believe it was after the 4th stanza that I stopped for winter recess, and put the poem down not to look at it for about a month.  So after I came back from my hiatus, I picked it back up yet again, and my mood had changed slightly, having worked several 40+ hour weeks over what was supposed to be my vacation.  And so I started thinking, well maybe the speaker of the poem isn't just lamenting as I had originally envisioned it, maybe he could be in fact dead due to the fact that these things he had wished to have and see never came through for him.  I know it gets a bit muddled and it's not precisely clear what I'm trying to say towards the end, but basically the speaker doesn't realize that his eye is disserving until he's actually drowned and has been mourned and buried, for once he is dead he can finally look at things from a different perspective and see where things in his life went so drastically wrong.  And, through it all, if you take the odd stanzas as one poem and the even stanzas as another, they should make some sense.  Should.