Moved Within Spheres

iconoclastic
refusing to use
the symbols infused
in an inventory
of masochistic
misanthropy.
Too crudely
representative
to see a strange
sameness
too bombastically
blind to care less
too hide bound
to feel the beat
he is out of step to.

And yet he claims
his is the true way.
This scratch he says
was a stick flung
at my feet, the
itch that moved me
to repudiate
that
which is, and
that
which is to be.
I am free of all
that.
And he moved
within spheres
within
spheres.
© I.D. Carswell 2007