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Ramblings, no rules

Stealing points from going on
I forfeit my right to privacy
and any responsibility my infringement
might or might not result in.

The meeting is continuously lit
by heated metal, smooth
and shiny in the dark so full
of strangers at ease.

There is no religion in seeing,
in being in tune with all
you can possibly grasp
at a given moment.

One can but love this recalling
constantly begging you to
engage and expand with
the mathematics of meeting.

Sororities cry for patents,
solitary men and women
scurry for bread and water;
I am the goodbye eye.

I am the whether or wither
at the instant offering
of your late night marveling
with your TV doing radio.

You are not, I am.
You are my perception
of whatever I perceive
is relevant or not.

Poetry by Bob
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