So far, I have become a two by four
My rough ends promise to scratch
The ungloved handler
Who sees me destined
For any given roof
School and work and family
Spit me out of the mill
And guided me into a wagon
Standard down to the wheels
I rolled along
Wetted by rains
That leaked into this ramshackle vehicle
Seasoned by seasons
Bludgeoned by reasons
But before the first nail
Could adhere me to the house
Of the rest of my life
I noticed that I could carve myself
And roughly began to work
No longer perfect
I was set aside at the construction site
Left to my own didactic devices
To sand away the dictum:
As you have been formed
So you must be
My garish tattoos got me admission
To the beat pine society
Where we swam in the streams
Of our burgeoning consciousnesses
After a while
Self-awareness was not enough
Wide forests and cities
Called for my efforts
Though no longer as a plank
I sharpened one of my edges
To a toothpick point
Hardened myself with fire
And started to make dots on the ground
Scratch awl subsistence
Turned to print
Later calligraphy
As sport became art
And art vocation
To carve in the earth
A new world
Roman Ryan 