I was brought to someone missing,
His eyes were searching the room
For a map, and failing, made
A grid for the world between us,
Placing all the junk in a meaningful sea,
Set in one place, and when moved,
Not lost, but sliding instead, everything
Having the power to take on numbers
And create distances, I had this power too,
Until I left the room and he moaned,
Missing his other axis standing at attention
To hold up a cabinet of coordinates for him.
“A Cartesian Afternoon” was printed in Hawthorne Road, No. 2 of Inwood Indiana. Pick up the paperback from Prolific Press; the stories and poems published online are free to read here.
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