This poem depends heavily on the form, in particular the spacing. It is best viewed in a large format such as a computer screen or tablet in landscape. The circular section can be read from the top and down each side (order doesn’t matter. When viewed on a small screen the lines get mixed up.
not knowing margaret not knowing margaret, I wasted years looking for someone who could understand the rules of my game she slipped in silently and changed them when I wasn’t looking she was a feather in free fall I was a pillow she was fairy dust suspended in sunlight I was a lighthouse she was a river raging I was a rock her parents delighted in me not knowing margaret, they hoped I might give her an anchor my parents just freaked.. not knowing margaret buses busy berkeley sidewalks browsing dusty bookstores lemons bagels tea she tempered my strength with tenderness, hope and love she filled me with her poetry and chocolate in ghirardelli square crowned me with chaplets read to me from of daisies and desire the little as we lay wet flowers in the still dews of of innocence st. francis in golden gate park and ferlinghetti she taught me pretended the mysteries of to be german joy and pain at the airport and the words to and gave her last dollar freut euch des lebens to a hare krishna who took it not knowing margaret one day with fire in her eyes she dared me to fly I knew I could do it if I just let go of her hand we soared together briefly drunk with new power I found the rest of the world not knowing margaret (without my ballast) had flown too close to the sun falling to the earth – which took its toll on her for years I followed her trail but she kept to the shadows I could not comprehend a hurt so deep that she could not forgive my heart holds your love and your pain but the worst of it still is not knowing, margaret |
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