They also called it an Empire,
and it was empirical by nature,
such vast open space.
Larger than life, holier than thou, cliché ridden and
doctrine infested-martyred and named Rome.
But what else could they do
but try to live most-ly
in the little time they lived,
in their little worlds they called homes
making cities, breeding atrocities, too close to comfort
any one or another.
Some chose other-wise;
the exile, the recluse, the slave
those submitting to suicide,
and Then death was revered, a danse macabre.
Otherwise, it all seems similar-ly
tied to one another by Now and Then.
A full revolution must be given time
to come full circle. Whose to say we could see it move
around so little.
Anyway, it could happen again.
And it could be that we, lately,
have been simply spinning much faster
From the top
All looks still…
There-
The people were all in tumultuous states
of vertigo-
But none said a thing to one another.
Watch they way they talk-
It was all in circles;
Copernicus to Dante, Socrates and the wheel,
and assorted likewise misappropriated
little narratives.
Later on, we read about the fall of Rome,
too easily condemning this ignorance
of inertia, or how our standing under
the weight of air, held us down
to inevitable endings with variable speeds.
It is hard to hear the words Here
with all the rubble in between the teeth
and wind inside the ears,
or see how much time can change so little.
Here we are,hoping the All’s wishing well has an end
in good being, every thing-
although at times
it feels as though we were falling
a little faster
but we could not know
having never felt vertigo.
Painting by Josephus Laurentius Dyckmans (1845) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
