the ball at the base of the BANG! I drew
in the margin of the page
(the book is about
looks like a spinning unicycle tire
but from here to home is far too far
to ride by unicycle
(from the hillcrest downtown
or to ride between the raindrops
without getting wet
where do I go when I am bound for home?
redesigning college curricula)
I cannot say:
I have no neat Cartesian plane,
no handy ordinate or abscissa,
no place to plant a perfect pin,
for my once-sharp axes have melted
into a warm poetical mist
lies as openly as a lover’s arms.)
No comments:
Post a Comment