Strict Geometry
June 19 2025
We live in strict geometry.
This 4-cornered room
of right angled walls.
This point in time
if time could stop.
The intersecting grid
of perpendicular streets
I travel on each day;
the straight line
through my flat vanilla life.
But also my topography.
My valleys and peaks.
The steep canyon walls
I fail to see.
My illusions
of self-improvement,
in which, like a Möbius strip
I end up simply circling back.
The lines that connect us all.
Like the red string
thumb-tacked to a cork-board
in some conspiracist’s underground den;
all of us entangled
in a web of relationships
that keeps extending out.
The circle of life.
Because everything
begins and ends.
A great pyramid looms over me.
Its apex
where triangular sides converge
and privilege flourishes.
And its load bearing base
where most of us are
in our appointed place,
doubled over
from the crushing weight.
There’s the passage of time
with its measured intervals
and neatly circling hands.
Which certainly seems geometrical,
but actually depends
on whom you ask.
Because time is subjective.
Because time and space are one
and space/time bends.
Because geometry
has more than 3 dimensions,
and it’s the 4th
that changes everything.
So I wonder about a 5th
invisible to us.
As if we were 2 dimensional creatures,
unaware
that parallel worlds existed
both above and below.
As if we were mere doodles
on a sheet of plain white paper;
a thin sheet
sandwiched somewhere in the middle
of a limitless stack.
