Perched on the rim of Archimedes’ cup
watched waters recede with what it will
a lever works the chain that folds us like
hooks in the bay lift ships by the treble
it’s a slippery spiral up our inclined plane
rising above oneself to grasp the world
when the heft of the crown is essayed in gold
value is measured in the slop of the bath
otiose ablutions squat soaking in thought
sloughing off eurakas in serpentine coils
a puzzle box at the bottom of his crater
love’s labor devises your own orrery
knees in dirt drawing cylinders in spheres
limiting endeavors to seiged Syracuse
red tip Romans quick to the gladius
leave us massaging a phantom limb as
a windswept whisper spars with Cicero.
