i decided i was a ball of clay
i was a thing to be held and not known
a grid of interconnected variables
saying, me, me, me, me, me
what goes around, goes around again
pote/ port/ pot
soil a skyline scored in slip
there are so many ways to situate oneself as
vast sagging field giving shape
meshwork of soldered ideas cylinder
it doesn’t matter
and yet what you hand down, over, hand out
is just one-way to live
in stressed and unstressed shifts i
am one edge away from disappearing
an expanding idea, a space where more space is making space is
this sympathy vs. empathy?
where is this all going?
all this orbiting round to become
a dinnerplate turned in
Copyright © 2019 by Mg Roberts. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on August 29, 2019, by the Academy of American Poets.