A child asked his stressed out
mom where their water came from,
and she didn’t look up from her
work just to shrug both her shoulders.
He went out back and kicked
a pebble around the house
until it wound up in the street
that was a circle with a center
made of concrete that was paler
than the road.
He walked out to this center tile
and stood there in the rays of sun
wishing there was more to see
but couldn’t think of anyone
to show him. He sat there on
his island looking down
the distant road, and counted
all the curves that he could see
from where no one ever watched
the world outside them.
Center Of The Circle
Teleporting Typewriter 