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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required THREE year olds know about circles. They play ring around the rosy and here we go round the mulberry bush. And if one should say that in reality nowhere is found a perfect circle, they either don’t hear or won’t buy it. Yet. Another year or so they’ll eat the awful truth and then conventional wisdom will slip right in to its proper place and babyish why will give way to unexamined lives. Sin preached from pulpits at preschool shrouds PI. POINT to the red stop circle. Here’s the way to walk safely: keep one foot on the ground at all times. Slowly and steadily. Stay between the lines and never let the sound of critical thinking distract your ear from the sound of my voice. I love you, dear. Trust me to tell you what you need know when you need to know it. I tell you, I’ve been granted credentials. Listen to me, I pledge allegiances, comfort and even wealth. Conformity’s requirements stifle PI. ONE damp March morn, buzzards circled the gray expanse of four-laned wasteland where a hound dog had foolishly chased a dove away from any sign of obedience. Mound after mound of petrified organs. Clear chords rang out. But the harsh grind of the gear of market driven semis hauling men and their pimp wares of lies told by vermin with disposable fantasies rolled by and outscreamed the prelude of peace. The end justifies. Wall Street domesticates PI. FOUR the fourth time, circle in ink to play lucky numbers. Fortune cookies abound with their scratch off oracles of big pay and tight buns and white cuspids. Wrap-around leather skirts lust for more time and sincere pleas for help get downsized. Year after year, oblivious to the tipping of win or lose scales to the right and left to grin and bear it. Occasional urge to cry ‘til imbalance seems natural. If your skin crawls take medicine. Addictions cloud PI. ONE nation under God circles to sway one lord one faith one baptism? Joshua downed Jericho and Truman blessed Enola Gay to drop her horrid load Does it astound anyone anymore? Or has the fear of death obscured sacred tidings of cheer and replaced them with slick prayers to low men in high places? Hallelujahs in thin screechy voices. Who will dare to ask why? Blind patriotism and religion unsupported by spirit torture PI. AND SO ON TO INFINITY. Again and again and again. There’s never been an end or even a pattern. We fly around in circles, unaware. But when we wake, we will come face to face with PI. ~~~~~~~~~~ the capitalized first words in each stanza when taken together are pi
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