Block On Blank
Blank takes a walk around the corner block
The mind will follow in due course to there
Blocks turn into blocks for hours on the mile
Rocks pile up momentum for a road to ride
But pile up the rocks that lead to where
On silent squares cubes expand, become as one
Locked together on the land in solidarity with the air
Where there appears to be but Blanks beginning
As it continues on from A to A and back again
Without a point concluded or even to be drawn
Nothing moves so fast as nothing there
Lost in the infinity of the perceived direction
There is nothing to see when B arrives on time
Block on blank can go so far to build anticipation
A labyrinth for instance is not a bridge to step upon
As pretty as it is, it has no shape or meaning
Outside the parameters of that which is angular
And darkness is not speaking
Authors note: I realize this poem does not say too much but isn't it pretty?
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