Stir

Stir
won't tire
of being this shape
of creating this shape
of being this wrong
out of line
stirring
blue parallels with their perpendiculars
wash
reality in poetry
you in poetry
your fear in
anything but that
washing
the iris from the eye
the eye from reality
until i don't see i am you
are we are we stir we wash
we stir lines we are out
of line we poet we poem we
won't tire.

nov 5, 08