When You Divide A Circle you Are Praying Poem by Francis Poole

Years ago when
I thought I had something to say
I had to try to excoriate,
denigrate others first.
Competition competition me first you last
but I was never good at making the moves
needed to knife fight in the alley,
though tried it once and survived
without a scratch though
loss of pride.
On my way back home
I threw my knife away.
Being a pacifist by nature with
a good measure of itinerancy
and indolence
it seemed like too much work
for dubious gains.
What I tried to say came out
often as a kind of whining about
life instead of a Howl.
In some cases I was justified
in complaining. Sometimes
complaining makes change.