Transitus
Flaming awareness
Reflects on ripples of lovework,
Cresting on combers, pulsing
To impress polarity
On waves of the Big Muddy Current.
They say that Time
Can never die:
I'd like to see Time in the ring
With the Root of "i".
The Root of 'i'`s a Star
Named Inspiration:
Now that he's gotten blacklisted
History cranks re-run suds
Through beerhalls that echo:
"This is Your Inquisition."
On that accursed day,
So wise women will say,
When the Acropolis got logged
The Root of Minus One went on the nod;
Isoscoles became the chain-gang God.
We worshiped not Hypotenuse
Until we'd suffered
Much foul use.
To St. Pythagoras we'll pray:
Hear how the children gripe,
And make the angle right.
from Beneath the Old ManÅ› Mountains.
©1994 Matt Cygny
All Rights Reserved
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