The Crowded Lines of Days

We’re sorry we haven’t given you more
Room in which to place the meanings you bring
To pour in us. Aritistic pottery
May be brilliantly glazed for galleries
But utterly useless for storing grain.

We apologize for our contortions.
We don’t mean to be meaningless, we just
Were spun around foolishly by someone
Trying to fix meanings in us, trying
To think through us, leaving small space to spare.