Everywhere Is Nowhere

Sitting at the cafe, he hears cool jazz. Or is it Muzak? Sitting at the Barnes & Noble Booksellers Cafe, he wonders, Am I at Lincoln Center? Berlin? San Francisco? DeWitt? London? Stamford? Then he wonders if he is in a Borders. No apostrophe. No geography. No locavore collocation. No placid placement, piecemeal or whole hog. No center of gravity, or gravitas. Periphery. "God is a circle whose center is everywhere and circumference nowhere. " Attributed to Empedocles. Who is that? Who am I? Who is you? Says you. Everywhere is nowhere and nowhere is everywhere, he felt, he knew. But somewhere is definitely someplace. Some. Place.