The lives of parallel lines are uneventful:
no sudden twists or unexpected turns disturb
their single track monotony. And yet they dream
of non-Euclidian space where rules are bent
and of that infinite horizon where, at last, they’ll coincide.
Concentric circles, on the other hand have
no such hyperbolic hope. They know their limitations.
Destined to be solitary cranks, they circumlocate,
make roundabout excuses and observe their fellows
from a distance. They never socialise.