Flat

I have a flat line in mind,

Not a mound, not even if it is of Venus,

But, a line as flat as I imagine Kansas to be.

In the past I have used this line as a guide.

I thought it was something, something to follow.

Now I read it on my screen.

I am through with life, dead straight lined,

I, at last, have missed my beat.

I am leaving.

I have gone around the bend, as they say.

Abstract me from my desert dunes,

For I am of fluid,

I am juices and therefore will never burn.

I am become flat as the cold slab

On which I have been laid out.

I was once drenched, as if immortal,

As if quantum.

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Locked In

Words & Picture ©2019 Christopher Thompson All rights reserved.

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