Progress

It has long been known by the poets of old
Cogs keep turning by the turning of more
But some are shaped a lil’ strange,
Some would just like to roll freely
Down sun-baked slopes far
From the machine. And
Some would rather
not turn at all.

There
Are those
Whose spirit,
Not of cog, no,
Rather circular,
All they want is
As much as to
Turn so that it
all just keeps
on turning
on and
on.

Then,
Rotating, as always, some
are beholden to visions
of greater machinations
to engage in the creation
of far more beautiful things.
But in the cog-like mentality
Surrounding the cog kings,
Can a cog possibly ever
Dream of becoming a sphere?

Surely hysterical to hold
such spherical notions,
But in the incessant turning,
and faceless embraces,
There lies art in becoming
A more mused wheel of the graces.