THE BEND

Words are not in the room;

Noise is in the room.

All meaning is in the shape of the room

Whose curved wall leads us back to what we once were.

That's to say; what we were before crying,

The creation of self and of lying,

And the shrill, pathological my-ing

That became what most of us is.

So, it's back to pre-blah-blah

And wondering who we are,

And whether it'll be far

To what we will be.

SRP