The Formless Waltz Of The World Poem by Floyd Crenshaw

the conventions,
yes.
the group love
of one man
but,
yes,
he seems to be...
well,
he used to be
but,
no,
now he is revised.
he is taped
and
coached.
the people argue
about
his record
and
his family.
putting down one
over the other
for
petty points
when never
will you know
this man
truly

i
used to believe
in plenty
until
the gift of war
was offered
as relief.

offense
humility
step back
regroup
reflect introspection
twist out like a
mad dervish.

i
heard one country
not known for power
but a mushroomed olive tree
say how
a country of
militaristic might
forgot himself
and
cut in to
his form
of abandonment

no body was too pleased.