Like the old, New Heaven
Goes on forever; the guards
March through the dust --
Well, some of them march
Others amble or mosey or
Sidle or shuffle or breakdance or
Walk on their hands --
Looking for something
They can call a border.
Occasionally one of them --
Mutters "what made us think
'Center everywhere,
Circumference nowhere'
Could possibly be a good idea?"
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