Life had once been defined by linears and absolutes.
Our intersections well-combined; concentric pegs, ladders and chutes.
Cabin logs fit, notch on notch and oaken floors laid tongue-in-groove,
Alpha letters etched on blocks, built towers high to stand, unmoved.
Our party lines were wired hard, and gaslights lit by hand each night,
Electric links for trolley cars, with route lines linear and tight.
The water pumps in cities wide and far abroad, pumped clear and clean,
Until the ground was compromised by viral beasts; minute, unseen.
We trusted water flowed downhill; that east was where the morn began,
We trusted spring’s return until the polar vortex blew its plan.
Was it we who changed the plan, who damaged waters cross the plains?
Who built an ether-web to span each others lives and sagging brains?
No longer absolute or straight; each turn untried, leading where?
Were all connected, yet apart: No man an island, but no one’s there.
This was written for Speakeasy 151, using the provided opening line, “Life had once been defined by linears and absolutes” and making reference to the provided photo by Odon Czintos, ” The Blue Street Fountain”.