Impetus at the Round Table

Crowded in a room of people,
Pupils,
Proud debaters and agitators,
Shakers,
I listen hard to the ground, to an inner conscious,
I wish.
It’s all disjointed.
The people,
They look hard around the table,
It’s a complete mess,
A lever is pulled and the room retrogrades,
Back to a fire-pit,
Into a hole:
A roundabout discussion,
Your opinion, my opinion,
Greater or equal decisions.

I’ve got to supplement this moment with a capsule,
Swallow it whole and sour.
Ingest this round table of aggression.
My stomach would dissolve these characters,
These people who stare until we all become translucent,
Shapeless and cover-less.
One should ask us to grapple with this idea:
“Collective consciousness”
But by now it is too late
Dissipated memories are we,
Around the boardroom of discussion.
Products of round table retort,
Forced into a deepening crevasse.
Separate cognitive angers,
A hole of debaters,
Impulses of disagreement.

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Based on AP lang classroom table