The Epic Remembrance Of Archimedes Poem by Nathan Coppedge

Everyone thinks I'm a baby.

What am I doing now? Iterating the lever.

I could have been Archimedes.

Would I think of every basic invention in the Ancient World? Maybe!

America is another Greece.

Lit up eggs are stars.

The distance between lives might explain people's blindness!

How small my mind might seem!

I might be mostly fending for my own!

The fruit is there if it is clever to take it… if it is clever to take it, Armadilla…

The walls are the same, strangely large and unforgiving…

The original quest seems difficult to reach…

God likes shrunken heroes…

And the names! They are all subjective in a second life!

America is miracle, the tool of choice.

Army is Amarilla- yellow, brilliance or gold, the things to fight with.

Country is a word that reminds me I am still counting, which means I am in the second place.

God means goad, an Egyptian tool I could not part with.

Levers of course I ‘love' if I am Archimedes.

And I am Archimedes no more (they say at least) , so others have taken his place- -they have invented televisions, computers, telephones, radios- -or maybe it is heaven for him, because he thought he was done with inventing- -I think that is only because he died- -unless he didn't really.

I could be Archimedes if I once was him- -I didn't want to buy him, I could be the nearest thing I know, unless I do not know, or unless I am separated from him.

All I need is the spirit of Archimedes…

Too much adle-ding my friends!

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