3 α
What it means to a cripple of mental retardation?
1β
I think and I sit here; I multiply and wander there,
4 γ
to find the answer to my anguish, monotony,
2δ
my unhappiness, but I know the truth would bait.
3ε
The answer that’s for hire to anyone;
1ζ
just it has taken me a long time with my two, to care
4 η
with piano, chess and general knowledge
2 θ
of mathematical and emotional checkmate.
3ι
I think of a cone, sphere, pyramid waltzing in embrace,
1κ
to enhance the quality of time, and art
4 λ
In bed last night, I thought, at 1 30, to contemplate
2 μ
the shape, and size, and the colour of the universe.
3 ν
an exercise without point or arc, radiating into my brain, a race
1 ξ
against lying alone, as always, a pie chart
4 ο
with area and segment, a circumference, to triangulate
2 π
the mattress and pillow, of plus, minus talk, terse.
Pythagoras’ theorem A
The quality of the flavour of the joint is equal to the quality of the flavour of the potatoes and turnips on the other two sides, in a correct prepared roast.
Why
you don’t just fry the fucking fish, in a pattern batter of multiple, factor, and then prime
a
raw jazz salad of lettuce, obtuse onion, cucumber, tomato, with rough polygon pepper; go
with
the juice sequence of a minor lime, with a disease-looking numerator, of parallel cut.
Then
enjoy the odd and even area and volume, the perimeter, the 12-hour clock time.
You
go off into the digit place, watching the equilateral multiples grow.
No
matter to think of the cheap packet of ‘chicken’ slice, in a watery centilitre, quiet; but
why?
The alpha and the omega
Tonight, the fridge, wok, weather came with perfume, at home,
with a cool, brisk, fragrant alpha-breeze, chafing at the back door frog-point hinge;
the dinner was a cook-from-frozen pack fish-in-breadcrumb bit,
non-taxing-exertion, wallowing and hissing in indolent ease,
that turned as if on an axis, to a crisp-in-its cut
gold-wet-hot wedge, after frying, modest-in-its rut.
When I lift them, they show me the combining juice cocktail run, as if to please
one, as in an inspection; a gentle incision in the succulence to emit
in a polite no-can spit way, a refreshing tang in a cheap entertainment binge,
rather than the mock-pomposity of an omega hostess with perfume, at home.
