A Line becomes Alarmed

Who’s this sphere
Who’s bounced into our world of lines,
Pushing us around?

We don’t like round
And we don’t like pushed.

What’s this plane rushing by?
She says it’s a circle
But I don’t see the point.
Well actually I only see a point,
Being a line.

How can a point
Take up so much room?
I mean, what does she mean by curved space
When there’s only A to B
Eternally?

Why is she always slipping out of view
And round the bend?
Where will it end?
She says there’s even more than circles,
None of which I’ve seen,
But also ‘up’
A thing I can’t imagine.

I prefer my single point
Into which I push myself forward
And become a line

Aligned entirely with others
In parallel
Whom I need not touch

As we all rush forwards
Without her
Crashing in on the super highway
Of my own singular express.

I stress
I don’t need a ball
At all.

She’s out of limits
Does not fit
into my mind or into any world that I accept
And yet,
as I move, I sense the presence of a great expanse
Of empty space through which she moves
on every side.