We’d Disagree

The idea my poems appear out of a black hole 
appeals to me - probably with ample evidence; 
tho’ I’m no scientist, & regretfully my math isn’t 
too fitting either, there are circumstances, or if 
you’d prefer it, extenuating regalia where what 
I represent can be likened to collapsing mass 

Think on it a piece; where solidity of common 
elements in per se themes representing what 
we embody used to be - there is a gap left as 
wide as any desert arid of meaning; & who th’ 
Hell are you, is the accusation, well - still me I 
guess, but I perceive you’re a bit different 

You see I’m looking down a conduit which fell 
in on itself through overuse - ran out of space 
is the trite way to say it, and moved on - good 
grace allows me retain connects made a long 
time ago but it wont stay that way, so, right or 
wrong I need redress who you really are - 

If you’re hearing what I think I’m saying we’re 
in the same place, there isn’t another - or if it 
isn’t - we’d disagree … 

© 18 June 2014, I. D. Carswell