Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Circle Man

He runs in circles,
while circles turn within me:
wheel upon wheel,
gear meshed into gear,
speared spokes
whirring
in whiteness;
my shadow
dominates
the center
and feeds
off the mechanized
darkness
that times
Time
like a German
metronome.

1 comment:

Ed T. said...

interesting poem, it reminds me of an experience I had once. I wandered into an art gallery once viewed a great mechanized sculpture. It was a a metal man on a unicycle that rode it across a wire, run by a motor. I happened to be staring at the chain in the motor and saw a small bug crawling up it. Or he was trying to anyways. the chain was moving so he was just staying in place like a treadmill. Another viewer saw this also and commented on how it was like life. The sculpture was the universe and the bug was us, always striving to reach something, sometimes gaining, sometimes losing but always struggling. I never forgot that. Anyways, this poem really reminded me of that. -Ed