They are round and when you put them together it makes an 8

I’m not sure if I ever posted this and I’m not sure when or where it was written, but it was written on the back of a rotating gallery list from the Met. Here it is:

Three days, two nights, and a red robin

Its gone upside down,
The inside of my head, it has
Around and disappeared the lining
Of subtle cerebralness
Displaced with the idiotic
Ramblings of
A bottomless blue bottle
Where did the delicacy and
Beauty of my former self go?
The green of a muggy
Jack-hammered day
The empty soul of regret
And me
Together in our humanity
Its quiet when the fear
Subsides,
The pores exuding the
Meaningless of it all
Then there is you
The haunter of my thoughts
The dictator of my action
My inaction
My eyes close and you are there
The slave-master who never was


The green refreshing cool water of
An urban oasis is muted by its occupants
The sounds of city echoing off the
Spring leaves of awakened trees
A nest burrowed deep and high and
In an older tree who has seen more
And listened longer than you or i

A dog barks, a child cries, and the breeze
Surrounds, saying somewhere, victory
Is near
What is the battle being waged but other
Than one of sensibilities
Reason’s valiant efforts against complacency.