Perfectly Round Circles
I like circles, perfectly round,
I tell them. I like it when the leaves
On the saucer and the handle
Of the cup point in the same direction.
I like Grecian architecture —
Equidistant pillars with equidistant lines
Running from top to bottom, I tell them.
I like stacking books from A to Z
On some days, and from red to violet
On other days; it makes me happy,
I tell them. Pencils, they’re fun
To line up — like a fleet of school buses.
I like how the ice cream swivels
On top of the cone — like the slide
In my backyard, the backyard of
Well-manicured bushes and lawn.
I tell them I like to clean my room
And other things, making them look like
The pictures in home decor magazines.
I like my text justified — a finite structure
For infinite thoughts scattered throughout.
I like patterns on pavement tiles, I tell them,
It’s nice to discover art in the shadow
Of the grey cityscape.
I like symmetry, I like patterns,
I like to make little things
Look perfect, I tell them. Oh,
So you’re OCD about these things,
They tell me. No, I’m just
A stickler for details, I tell them.
Does that satisfy your OCD, they ask me.
It’s nice to look at, I tell them,
But that doesn’t satisfy anything.
This must trigger your OCD,
They tell me. No, I tell them,
This doesn’t agitate me. Having an
Affinity for aesthetically-pleasing
Order is not a disorder, I tell them.
These are just traits of my personality;
My thoughts remain unstirred and
Activities remain undisturbed,
I tell them. These traits are neither
Unwanted, nor forced, nor intrusive,
I tell them. I just happen to like
Perfectly round circles. I just wish
They wouldn’t create an adjective out of
An acronym that only puts three letters
To a living nightmare.
