Poem By A. L. Breitling

What have you got there?
A spirograph on a globe and those lines
that aren’t quite so unintended or random
but you can’t see them in the mechanism,
only when the design is finally there.
What are you doing?
Coloring the spaces that must mean something
for the effort invested in their demarcation,
a different color for each area occasionally repeated;
see, red means war, blue is sea, and white suggests
all those things that we’ve forgotten.
What are you doing?
Rolling the globe on a virgin canvas
to augur what the future holds,
recalling at once the ancient prophets
and an idyll of childhood in its own devices.
What have you got there?
The simplest of formulas for figuring out
the progress of time and what we’ve accomplished,
regarding the distance from where we began
to where we arrived at nothing.

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As she is, she is kept
under some cold illicit rock
where feminine and tension
coil together, compressing