The tightrope artist
walks a fine line
between two yawning options—
to fall to his death
to his left,
or from the same height
on the right.
His middle way is no matter
of ease or comfort.
It’s obligatory.
Still, it is something of a relief
to have the world’s compass points
shrunk to two.
This one-dimensional man
knows his back from his front,
what he’s done from what he must do,
and may look like he knows
how he got where he is.
But really,
he hasn’t a clue.
