When Stuck in the Left Hemisphere

I’ve arrived to another blank

scantron sheet of hollow circles,

but the No. 2 Pencils spun downhill

with the fresh tops of grassy joy

as age expanded intellect into clouds

the floor became covered

in columns and rows

from questions and answers 

that grew off the page, 

now I only stand on problems

I have to hope the natural world 

is conspiring for my freedom,

traveling parallel but independent

to these grooves I’m riding,

worn down from looking

for the right answer, but not up

to see I’m moving in circles