The Fractal Journal
Integrative Analysis
Tidy (Poem)
So clean and so neat
Doesn’t it just insist
That there is a steady beat
That things persist
But the static on the screen
Seems less uncanny
Than what is plainly seen
All or any
Tidy
On the shelf
Tides are never tidy
You’re talking to yourself
Slip and fall into a pool of summary
Drowning for a grip
In a sea of solipsistic symmetry
Till there is a slip
And a billion points of light
Reveal the origin
The tidiness of sight
Complete in shattered pieces of a glass of gin
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