Thursday, August 29, 2019

Cylanders II by Mg Roberts

i decided i was a ball of clay
                                                                                          spherical
                                                                                               temperamental
                                                                                          poetic
 
i was a thing to be held and not known
a grid of interconnected variables
saying, me, me, me, me, me
 
what goes around, goes around again
pote/ port/ pot
                             soil a skyline scored in                    slip

there are so many ways to situate oneself as
vast sagging field                                                           giving shape
to
meshwork of soldered ideas cylinder


it doesn’t matter
and yet what you hand down, over, hand out
is just one-way to live
 
in stressed and unstressed shifts i
am one edge away from disappearing
             an expanding idea, a space
                  where more space                                        is making space is
this sympathy vs. empathy?


such landslide
where is this all going?
all this                                                                              orbiting round to
                                                                                              become
                                                                                          a dinnerplate turned
                                                                                              in
                                                                                          on itself

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