After the geodesic dome designed by R. Buckminster Fuller, now known as the Montreal Biosphère
I go to my happy place inside color theory.
Inside the theory explaining color,
afternoon. A geodesic dome,
preparations for Expo 67.
I’m not alive yet.
This afternoon, my fellow concept-enthusiasts and I
cheer for colorless acrylic cells
between our conceptual
and what we understand as the bluest sky.
Later, the cells will catch fire; for now, my humanity remains theoretical.
My happy place predates the dome, the Buckyball, predates
the sky. I go there sleepy-happy, riding an imaginary Blue line from the Ontario pavilion.
I go there almost alive.
Amy Poague is an Iowa City-based poet working at a junior high school, and she holds an M.A. in Creative Writing from Eastern Michigan University. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Opiate (print and online versions), Fine Madness, SWWIM Every Day, Helen: A Literary Magazine, The Mantle, Mojave Heart Review, and Iowa City's Poetry in Public project. She is on Twitter at @PoagueAmy.
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