A Little Extra Challenge
The Tower of Babel crumbles, and so does
the builders’ sanity, which causes
a dust-and-media storm.
Men with long arms raise the roof beams
skywards; their aprons develop callosities.
Lark feathers get stuck in the lungs.
Whose pockets are full of yesterday?
Whose simple logic makes his chin protrude?
The higher they climb the less sky they find.
The silence of the land becomes deafening.
Endless book has no beginning;
groundless hope has no measure.
Who uttered, I am still not “me” enough?
Was he too alive?
The lemniscate curve of imagination
carries the dreamers through multi-shaped void
back to the starting point.
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Stink Eye Magazine 