Here I am
But what is here
Is it a house
What is this fear
Latitude may literally
Orient the body
But this brain demands
A map to itself
Of itself
And of all the other brains around
Uncertain be all brains
Not to mention bodies
So see me off
This conviction rampage
For no iron is hot enough
To unwrinkle assuage
Rather wrinkle further
Steer skids to whipsaw
For place is more like time
And senses are more like words
Meaningless without context
Identifiable not at all
Compass rose spins to blur
All I might do is nod
And stir
Roman Ryan 