The lines of the poem
lay flat on a paper, freshly unfolded
on a cleared table top

The words like soldiers are lined up
some bravely in front, the avant-guard,
Some Capitalized craving leadership,
others obediently filling gaps,
And then those just holding on barely
half falling off the bright blue floor line
running across the page
recalling a muffled paper-rustling chorus
chanting for them to hang on,
even though they were scribbled in
at the last minute

Finally the Poet arrives
with a two handed grasp
picks up the paper
and begins to read

One word after another
But with each word released into the air,
a choreography of relationships change
the simplicity of understanding
one word alone alters

Words begin to hold hands, murder and lie,
Love and languish, oppose and challenge
Begin to mean several things at once
Yet within a word or two, or a skip across the blue
they might regain their original guise,
but will now eternally shape shift

With all the gymnastics it is easy to see
that words might get pumped up
A little word might grow in size,
balloon off the page and float
into an archive of memories
grabbing secrets or hidden feelings

Luckily the listener has left a whale hook
in the progression of the poem in progress
being able to return,
back pack full, with accumulations of wealth
It is impossible to stop
the phenomena transpiring now
meanings of words we thought we knew
found a new stage and were cast in new roles.

And with more lines read and set airborne
the world is forever different
Many phrases give bloom to brilliant colors
and mix with songs of intent and desire, past and present…
fluidity of mind takes the lead.

Whole lines hang in the air
twisting sheer ribbons turning
on a rotisserie of reflection
While all still aloft
a few words glow,
others melt
some get extinguished in agony
by those who dominate,
as they want to go home with you

The words have behaved like soldiers
not still and restrained by ink,
but moving, running, flying
battling it out
in a fight to the finish

The Poet comes to an end
and stops reading.
All the words settle back into the page
The folded poem travels
compactly away in a pocket