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Foolishness by Cynthia Grier Lotze

depoetry
October 26, 2015


When you want to be the only owner

of something, keep the way to get it

a secret. Start with geometry: deny
parabola, if applicable. Insert

the inapplicable: sea winds, all

terrestrial properties of uselessness, charted

temperatures for the last century
in the Congo. Elk migration, Irish

migration, Greenwich Mean Time, cloud

formation, morning dew, river over

the banks, sun over the shoulder. Turn

three times into the wind if northerly; adjust

telescope accordingly. In the event
a bright young thing in petticoats determines

it all – the comet’s graceful swing
around Jupiter, a uniform velocity indisputable, her math

a wonder upon butcher’s paper, papering her attic

walls, her parabolas’ intersection beyond

contention – point out she’s a girl, disappear

yourself. Your work here is done.