Terza Rima: Circle of Squares
You have mail! from the blue
Cataclysmic, rhythmic
Conversation ensues
“I’m a fairly addicted psychotic”
She says with a binary hand outstretched
Great, because I feel somewhat neurotic
The dice rolled so farfetched
Mutual abstract joy
Turning this knob to sketch
She appears to toy with the hoi polloi
Arrogance Alchemist glances downwards
Employs with practiced poise a poisoned ploy
And she says,
Who can find an angle in this circle of squares?
We engender found words
And with abandon meet
From the start so absurd
Hot Friday night, redundantly we greet
Volatile, diminutive, cynical,
She wields her spoon to save us from the heat
It all seems cyclical
Irritate plebeians
And tease with a sickle
“Your audience is in the millions!”
I argue feebly, before she replies
“And they have no worthy opinions.”
I must agree,
Who can find an angle in this circle of squares?

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