[For better context of this poem, please look at: The peak (1st of Dec)]
Suppose that
experience can indeed be drawn
and counted in triangular form
and each person lives out their own geometric range,
where the angles and heights measure differently,
being of varied extension and sharpness
and, in that, even similar experiences
for people who are not the same person
will triangulate dissimilarly
so, each person’s going-about
is unique yet geometrically comparable
distinct yet always set out mountain-like;
Now, if all these individual and idiosyncratic textures of
experience were to be collated, put together as they have to be,
to make a single shape, a totally indicative form, would this
object of the experience of experience be one giant Triangle or, rather,
something more obvious: like a Sphere, marked by a unifying Equator
brining every high and every low to the same finishing line?