
Progressive Insanities of a Pioneer Margaret Atwood
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He stood, a point
on a sheet of green paper
proclaiming himself the centre
with no walls, no borders
anywhere; the sky no height
above him, totally un
enclosed
and shouted:
Let me out!
He dug the soil in rows,
imposed himself with shovels
He asserted
in to the furrows, I
am not random
The ground
replied with aphorisms:
a tree-sprout, a nameless
weed, words
he couldn't understand.
The house pitched
the plot staked
in the middle of nowhere
on a sheet of green paper
proclaiming himself the centre
with no walls, no borders
anywhere; the sky no height
above him, totally un
enclosed
and shouted:
Let me out!
He dug the soil in rows,
imposed himself with shovels
He asserted
in to the furrows, I
am not random
The ground
replied with aphorisms:
a tree-sprout, a nameless
weed, words
he couldn't understand.
The house pitched
the plot staked
in the middle of nowhere
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