A square world

Is the world square,
Full of round people
who don’t fit?
Like pigs of a feather that don’t flock together
Even though they live side by side
That’s just the space they’re in
It’s so full brimming to overflow
In fact flooded
But empty in a bone dry desert place
A damn mad world or a mad damn world
Which is it or is it both?
One thing for sure it’s spinning
in ever increasing circles
Prison circles
Terminally ill circles
Lost at sea circles.

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