Thou put forth a broken mirror
Yet want me to see a whole
Why? Bard,
Thou hold the oracle
...
Please come in.
Leave your filthy looking footwear
at the doorsteps and the umbrella
in the corner.
...
The Grave Of Me
Dig a circle
A perfect one
and let me lie down there
in peace.
I hate squares,
rectangles and triangles,
For they all have edges
sharp, piercing.
Circles are neat.
A circle grows
with the same epicenter
expanding, encompassing.
A circle's easy
unlike hexagons and many more.
A circle is always complete.
And I will lie there
contemplating
the fullness and perfection,
I intend my death to be