Monday, April 15, 2013

2013 Poem 15: Massaging the Numbers

The numbers slide and pulse and writhe.
Some insist on strict identities
but others are content to be flexible,
submissively morphing as needed
to best meet a mate above or below
and leave their sides of the bar together.

We're not building bridges or designing planes.
We're not fighting disease or auditing books.
Two wrongs don't make a right
but π and e can make a ten.


This didn't end up where I thought it was going, but maybe it ended up where it needed to be.

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