The first one,
made of stone a little out of round.
It spun the potter’s dreams.
Pat Sajak, did you think you owned it?
Take a look at Chaucer’s Tales
It’s all been done before.
A step into the future then back again;
camels and potholes, fallen emperors,
Heat saps the energy, even overbalanced
perpetual motion is just a dream.
What good is this invention?
This was never meant to be a list poem.
All these years of reinventing
from science to art, precisely round
with just a bit of baroque embellishment
Born and reborn
steel and splash
it keeps on turning.