RondoShe tried to fix her fingers last night.
It was suddenness and flash that instilled
In her the feeling that the squares were actually
Rectangular keys: Arranged
As a starfish's beams are shot.
Intending to square this circle now
She bowed downwards and played -
Struck both sides - 'till she took notice
Of the advantages of being in the centre.
On her way there peculiar fatherly images
Double-crossed her path intending to recircle
Each of the strings a beholder might have
Mistaken as broken.
The lines kept ensnaring her labouring hands.
The black and white was blurred to a
Pasty/tasty grey soup that filled
Her mouth, nose, ears, eyes, arse and belly button...
And the generation gap.