if there is an edge to balance upon
where the cutting shatters one to
mindlessness, and the one side is
the depressive obsession with what
came before and the other is a baked
anxiety, extra zucchini, too much
salt; where does one land in the balance?
riding a see-saw is challenging by
oneself and damn near impossible
with three people. what's the difference
between one and three? two pasts,
one present, and a future (oh, I had
forgotten that there is more than
one; where is the edge, really?)
for the conclusion's epilogue.
interruptions are the way things are;
don't let me finish, I did not know
where I was going anyway (didn't you
remember what I was going to say?).
I would appreciate your indiscretion to
see the way to the west pole
for which I have been searching
from every direction (imaginable).
Roman Ryan 