Poetry In Short (6) Poem by shimon weinroth

Outside

there is a circle,
turning round and round
which has no corners,
turned upside down,

inside out
there are are still
no corners
to go out

Unselected

a realm of grasp
bitten by chance,
turned coat,

eyes are dimmed
tears at the heart
swim to the brim



utopia
another myopia
of the mind
hopeful and blind


your instincts are as strong
as your nose will lead you,
into curiosity
kill both you and the cat


possesses, possessing
possessed with possessions
clutter up the scene
with memorabilia obscene