Flat WorldA Poem by Truman S. Booth This is a very abstract poem. If it was on a math test, the correct answer would be "Does not include enough information to solve." For most readers, it's just for fun. *Part
One* Imagine
the world, so round and so large, With
oceans that harbor the whale and the barge, That
licks upon land, miles wide, I am told, With
mountains and valleys and gardens that hold All
the beauty we talk about, think about, see In
the words of the poets and HD TV. Imagine,
now, that the whole world is flat, (But
only so it can be turned upside down Which
will happen later; no question on that) But
nothing has changed: still there’s ocean and ground And
the birds overhead and the demons below And
the trees, and the forests, and gardens, and snow, And
the sand and the sound and all that jazz, you know? Now
turn it upside down (as I mentioned before). All
the water would fall and ascend into space Bringing
with it its whales, a sad look on their face As
they fall with their friends, like the barges and birds Into
that outer-space. And imagine the words Which
escape from the vulgarous mouths of the people Who
watch from the branches and tips of the steeple As
all of the birds and the flowers and water Go
falling away with their suns and their daughter. And
all of the people in all of the caves Would
die when the flat-world got turned upside down Because
of stalactites, which become stalagmites, And
everyone falls onto one, is impaled, And
bleeds to death promptly while screaming in pain And
listening as all his friends do the same. I’m
in my house when the world flips around. Floor
becomes ceiling, and that becomes ground. Cellar
is attic, and garret’s below, Everything
breaks from the fall, so I know I’m
the only one safe in the world because I Chose
not to spend time with my family, outside, In
playing a game of socfootbasekickbasket- Softgolfbouncytennishandrugbyballraquet. And
out of the window, still centered on wall, I
watch all my family as they, shrieking, fall. A
wave and a kiss and they tell me goodbye. I
pretend not to see them, but don’t ask me why. *Part
Two* I’m
alone, all alone Sitting
on what used to be The
ceiling, but now I’m
sitting on it, and The
ground is now the ceiling, but it used to be The
ground. The
computer’s right beside me, smashed from the fall From
what used to be The
ground but is now the ceiling to what used to be the ceiling but is now The
ground. And
all around me is debris From
similar descents As
that which the poor computer endured (Or
rather did not endure). And
of course, with nothing to do But
look at my poor, dead computer And
the upside-down horizon outside the window (And
it is somewhat entertaining to watch the trees" The
weak trees, whose roots aren’t strong enough" Rip
from the earth above and fall into the sky below) And
with nothing else to do, I
think of her. Text
her, I think, and see if she’s all right… If
she survived the flip-dee-doo of the world. But
of course, I realize, that would do nothing Since
the satellites are now below me And
my phone would send its signals upwards, Expecting
to reach the satellites, But
they would only absorb into the ground. So
I throw my phone out the window, instead, and watch it fall into the sky. © 2010 Truman S. BoothAuthor's Note
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Truman S. Booththe Bubble, UTAboutI am a young writer, but I believe that talent knows no age--although they tend to increase together. There are a few things I love, and a few things I hate. I love language, piano, animated movie.. more..Writing
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