Circles in my ceiling
beckon me to see
through sheetrock layers
of homologies of futured
backward remedies
producing feelings of
incompleteness
replete with ringing bells
of commonality.

Circles in our ceilings
beckon us to see
through sheetrock flavored
pathologies of futures
backward calamities
inciting feelings of
obtuseness
defeat by ringing bells
of insubstantiality.

Circles in life’s ceiling
beckon me to see
through sheetrock players
of anomalies of future
awkward families
colliding feelings of
absoluteness
a feat of ringing bells
of inconsequentiality.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 8/8/06