‘Repetitive Forms Around Me’ by John Tuttle

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Those common signs I see around me,
They do exist. Examples:
Stalagtites – I saw them
In a cave’s esophogus
Like darkened perpetual icicles.

Grease – I’ve seen it in the kitchen
Coagulating, solidifying, stiffening
Not unlike the liquid of the lake
Covering the basin with brittle sheet
But not more than a season.

Likewise, the times are seasoned;
Winter with snow like salt sprinkling,
And autumn with soft leaflets
Like the cinnamon on oatmeal.
Golden honey too is poured in.

The honey was the bees’ preservatives
Which we confiscated in a trade
For simple water and artificial sugar.
Sweet nectar sits in shelved jars
Awaiting a price tag and consumption.

The strawberries Mom bought yesterday
Are getting white fuzz in their pores,
Reminding it’s not too late to shave,
To remove this weight hiding me
From those with an unkindly gaze.

Tuataras are like mini cyclopses
With a third eye that’s not what it seems
Not like yours or mine
Yet still it senses the light of moon and star.
But even tuataras don’t know why it’s there.

A droplet or a driplet rolling
Vibrating as it goes across the car window
Reminds me of brighter, warmer days
When working beneath the sun beating
Sweat beaded up and crawled down my face.

As the steam rises from the river running
In times where air and water are different
Fluctuating vastly between their temperatures
So now I glance over at my coffee
From which there rises steam fuming also.

Once enkindled, flames lick their friends
Like a dog, they continue to caress their comrades.
Not moistened, instead the fuel dries up
It cracks, it shrivels, it decomposes in heat
The fire consumes all once lit.

One time at school I stared at a map
Hanging on the wall in the library
Not during geography, mind you,
This I did of my own free will.
And in the nations I saw shapes of animals.

Africa and Europe when combined
To my eyes resemble a canine
I looked to the Americas and tilted the world on its side
Now North ans South together made a duck
And Greenland appeared as a wolf on the hunt.

The rest was a pale azure
And I wondered how much of those seas
Could really be explored
Full of bubbly, tentacled marine creatures
Those like the squid, jellyfish, anemone, nautilus.

Those tentacle crawlies remind me of spaghetti
Stringy, each appendage is dangling loose
The meatballs, three at most, are mixed in
Seeming to me like eyeballs forever sealed.
No matter; I can’t eat them on Friday.

Fish have mosaic-like scales; so do serpents
But they are different and not for weighing.
A male lion has a mane as does a stallion.
But the horse’s is not the same.
The hair lays flat against his neck.

In a way, the mythical brutes fabricated
By the uneducated ancients do exist:
The Kraken: on a smaller scale, I’m sure
The Dragon: minus the firebreathing lungs
Even the unicorn: an equine with a horn of a prehistoric bovine.

Thus in veritably everything I see
And all the things I experience and do
I learn about my surroundings,
Those both far and near
To compare and comprehend them.

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