Bend the knee
not to kneel, but to peer deeper
into the weave;

drop a line & let it lie
in fiber optics at the ocean’s
floor. People poke holes

then shame the draining,
which is to say, I’d rather stand,
thanks.No more

ontologies for me,
please. Today’s happy hour’s already
canceled due to the carpet’s geometry

unlocking its hexagons,
while the lobby’s acrostics cross-

stitch

obscenely.These lower
levels scroll left to right,

whether we crouch
or fight. Secretions pour

from elevator
doors. Tag, you’re the lotus eater. Gag
& I’m the next restless leg.

I’ll take the escalator
instead.I’ll talk these circles

& square them against any past

prolepses until the reception’s better,
or I’m listing less.