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?