Carousel

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Abstract

want it to so we glide along, pit in our stomach because this ride has gone on too long and the motion is becoming untoward If we could only just step off the side it would be so much easier but doing so would only leave us more injured than we are having to complete this cycle of disdain</p><p id="e26c">We spin, controlled out of control me on my white unicorn you on your brown pony thinking this is all there is so we switch seats, just to see you on my white unicorn me on your brown pony and we realize that the view is exactly the same outside of the carousel and we are still spinning</p><p id="86e1">The ride stops, we get off Our unsteady gait is preferable to another round on the carousel, but as we leave, what we see surprises us to no end A line of peopl

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e, just like us, getting on the same ride to do the same thing and a machine about to press start and do it all over again</p><p id="bcfe">© <a href="undefined">Jonathan Greene</a> 2020</p><p id="d6a4">If you liked this, you might like this as well:</p><div id="1d68" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/loose-words-af729068755e"> <div> <div> <h2>Loose Words</h2> <div><h3>A Poem</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*nBqUkimIdkHAJouq)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

A Poem

This pandemic is like a carousel round and round we go each day thinking it might be different until we are reminded that it’s the same It’s the same day, different date The same view, different state We are all looking at the same thing A circular vision of ourselves and what we look like when we are stuck in rotation

It won’t stop when we want it to so we glide along, pit in our stomach because this ride has gone on too long and the motion is becoming untoward If we could only just step off the side it would be so much easier but doing so would only leave us more injured than we are having to complete this cycle of disdain

We spin, controlled out of control me on my white unicorn you on your brown pony thinking this is all there is so we switch seats, just to see you on my white unicorn me on your brown pony and we realize that the view is exactly the same outside of the carousel and we are still spinning

The ride stops, we get off Our unsteady gait is preferable to another round on the carousel, but as we leave, what we see surprises us to no end A line of people, just like us, getting on the same ride to do the same thing and a machine about to press start and do it all over again

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