Insects, beasts with
no
Opposable digits,
who knows
If they have math
In their head,
Magnitudes and whatnot,
Their bodies made to
Encourage cut corners; round
Spider webs, not square
Skyscrapers, honeycombs,
Not high-rises.
Birds, born with the
Ability to fly,
Know more than
East
and West,
North and South;
They know
Altitude. Us
ground-dwellers,
Stuck
with jumping
And pushing
elevator
Buttons, buying
plane
Tickets and bungee
passes,
We don’t concern
Ourselves with lift,
Drag,
elevation.
But ten, ten is
Always there.
You can count
on it,
Rake your hands
In the dirt,
press
Them against your thigh
When you think
No eyes
Are
on you,
Come up
With all the answers.