Geometry of the Living

If birth is point A
And death is point B
The lifeline between must be me
This line stretches out in one direction
Broken on occasion by an intersection
To a destination yet unseen

I’ve tried manipulation
And applied creative articulation
To what is seemingly fixed and mundane
An attempt to alter design by an active brain
Yet lifelines struggle to remain the same
In spite of my interpretation

I don’t care for vertical
It all seems so upright and imperial
Because vertical implies a lofty need
For me lofty is just another nosebleed
And therefore defined non-essential
Found to be inconsequential

I’m not much for horizontal
It’s all too lifelike and elemental
Common position for sleep, sex and death
Only difference being a variance of breath
And in the end all too damn incidental
A wise mans image of contemporary hell

It’s these angles that I’m drawn to
Angles that define my world anew
On desktops, roadmaps, and daydreams
In art work, playgrounds, and street scenes
It’s tranquility and peace they’re giving
The angles in the geometry of the living

To a destination still yet unseen
Broken on occasion by an intersection
The lifeline stretches out in one direction
This angle filled line must be me
Since my birth is point AAnd death is point B