A VERY LOOSE POME

To rhymers and structured thinkers this may not be poetry. You be the judge.

----by Dan J. McDonald



Isosceles
Drew a circle on the ground
And with his mind inflated it into a sphere.
He picked up the sphere
And threw it at a line.
The sphere found its mark, killing the line instantly.
Then he drew a square
And expanded it in his imagination to a rectangle.
But carrying it so far it suffered a wrecked angle,
He lopped off one side to tri a new angle.
But this did not turn out quite right
So he decided to get equal at Eral,
Which he thought was somewhere in Greece,
Which was okay because he liked Keats and beats and beets
And cleaned the Greece off urns.
He liked poems because they had no boundaries
And if confined to the printed page
Would spill over into memory
To be recalled at will or never
But existed outside of circles and spheres,
Squares and rectangles,
And all new tried angles.
Isosceles preached this heresy then drank the hemlock.
Or was it Socrates?
What the heck - they both end with S.