in this spherical geometry,
a straight line
is a lie—
is actually a slight smile
or sneer;
it may even
intersect itself
after a while.
For Euclid,
this was heresy.
To be emissary
of the kingdom
and still be allowed to see it—
that is just
too much.
It's a beatitude to be
so near
to the truth
and not be allowed
to touch it.
*
I'd have to say
it's rather odd, but,
during one certain hour of the morning,
the mind is a vacant lot;
the few hawks
that drift high above
would have to be
its thoughts.
The arbitrary relation
of the sign to the signified—
ominous,
but not urgent;
eerie, but benign;
lifeless, and so
deathless—maybe that
was god.
