I like a straight line.
—Todd Videlock
Not the worm,
not the stick,
not the swollen
river bed,
not the canyon,
not the fish,
nor stems
of violets,
and not
the field grass,
not the vine,
there’s something
that can’t love
straight lines,
and love
could never,
ever work
upon a grid—
it needs
a curve,
an arc,
a bending
sigh,
like a moon,
like a swan,
like the tail
of a kite.
yes, yes, “…a curve, an arc, a bending sigh…”
I can see how love works that way, you said it sweetly
Great rhythms in this one. Those short lines, those subtle rhymes, the pace of it all. Moves on down the page, kinda like a line.