There's a theorem that says:
The shortest distance between two points is a point.
At a point I am on a plane with
wings made of feathers and
a captain who speaks in
a language I can't understand.
At another point I wake up in
a toxic cloud, surrounded
by tainted dreams where
vacuums turn to snakes and
leave me cornered on
the bathroom counter.
At some point I am
wandering along a hikers path trying
to find whatever point
I'm looking for.
All I find are bees.
I hate bees.
I'm still confused
about which one is which.
2 comments:
I read this and thought: "Snakes on a plane!" I don't know if that was what you were intending to get across (I really don't get poetry), but it made me smile! :)
Hehehe, no, but every time someone reads something I've written I think it's so neat to hear what they get out of it because it's always different (and sometimes better). It's humbling. :)
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