I Read from Squared-off Books

sitting at a squared off table, 

in a room, in a world created 

by squared off minds. 

I have always loved 

a rambling ramshackle story 

set in an old house where rooms

were added over time as needed,

not by some architect’s preconceived notion 

of the art of efficiency. 

If the story leads me up a staircase in the dark

on missions ordered by untrustworthy relatives,

if night is protected by two riders approaching 

if the afternoon sun glitters on signs of broken glass 

Pointing to  forests where beautiful nymphs 

are burned at the stake 

for the crime of being free. 

If I sit by a wandering stream

looking for candid flies 

under the clear water, 

I will not square off my tale

to fit your meter nor your form. 

I am not afraid of your squared off god, 

he will never enter

the round rooms of my soul.