The Reality of Tangents by Jack Farquharson

The drinks are ordered as the evening draws in,
And idea is thrown,
A random thought perhaps.

The thought is a seed,
In a fertile bed of disparate minds;
Leading to a story perhaps,
An evening’s tale at the least.

Where is it going, who really cares?
All add to the end,
Just to see where it leads.

The story veers off, the tangent is formed,
Evading the grasp of some,
Who clutch to the end of the tale;
They are dropped.

Not that they care,
The audience is enrapt.
They join with the ranks,
While the story unfolds.

As the tangent veers further,
More leave the tale,
Until just two are left,
Searching for the tangents end.

Some look perplexed, yet all understand,
For all here are friends,
And all know the Reality of Tangents.

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