Lines of Authority

               by Charles Mann

Someone is always on top when lines are drawn,
straight, vertical, horizontal--boxes made,
names given to classify, lines that sort
things out, make clear the messenger and message,
the poor slob who receives it, raging
at the bottom, silently dying
and lost in the middle, saddest: royals
on top who believe in the divine power
of lines, daily electrocution rites
ministered through their touch, their voice pulsing
through the lines bold but fading from the power
of light, and all lines blur in the sand,
don't they know, when people work, earth moves
and all boxes long for the curve that runs
forever in hope of a circle where
centers expand, fold, believe, and even
hold as lines are speared past them, too close
for comfort, but plenty close to know themselves.