The careful forms,
Straight descending lines.
Too many years spent sequestered,
Too many dollars frittered away
To see the world as a collection of shapes,
To know the numerical sequence
That defines a physical world when it is
Broken down into pure, descriptive
Analysis.
Dripping information carving
Geometric patterns into the substrate,
Slowly changing the world around
From gleeful chaos
To wondrous, hidden order.
Too late to alter worked grooves
In the mind, when it becomes evident
That the tools available were insufficient
To adequately work the wood
Into usable shape,
But just enough
So that the rest of the world
No longer recognizes
The shapes presented there.
No comments:
Post a Comment