Untitled (Like A Top)

And so we’ve concluded that life’s the act of tilting.
Some things remain consistent: general shapes, colors, design;
The materials will be, have been, the same forever.

But oh! The urge to get so dizzy from the shift in focus,
(Eyes drifing back into our heads) the subject out of view;
For the tilt is from spinning, and we all land on our stomachs…

Save the few of us who will fall on our backs.
But until then, we are all but mere dreidals:
Doomed forever to acquire all, half, or nothing.