A Love Poem While Dissolving
I’m trying to say I love you, but Buckminster Fuller declared
there are no straight lines in the universe, which was bad enough,
but he also claimed, and he was supposed to know, there are no surfaces
and no solids, and if that’s true, and of course it is, what I’m standing on
while looking at you what I thought was straight in the eye is neither
here nor there nor capable of being solved by the most solid geometry,
and every upper layer of everything is no longer a member
of any anything, but a simple particle of low, medium, and high
exchanges of views, depending momentarily on the opinions
of some observers like you or me whose eyeballs are undergoing
a temporary impression of what we’ve called edges and outlines
in a whirl of circles, which aren’t really cycles, but spirals
headed somewhere either under or around us or in and out
of what’s called (for the unstable love of us!) what have you,
and what I seem to have of you is a higher and higher opinion.