Sunday, August 07, 2016

We, The Living Equations

we, the living equations on His board
wonder, what it is we're up here for;
how soon will we be

erased? and anguish in this green black space
whole nights and days away,
for we are variables

and cannot prove ourselves

even when written in another base.
and some are the x, y, z
or the a and b, the pride of place

of the propositions and composed like this
every May are subject to furtive visions while
worked out in the margins on the tests

of His grace or crowded end to end
for the astronomers manipulating Space;
the engineers on the brink they think

where we are plotted on the graphs
of mysterious inequities.

we think:
we don't know what
and so repeat ourselves

all down the alphabet Septembers
grade by grade and wistfully conclude
from noon to noisy noon

in polynomial gloom:
though polyglot,we cannot
solve ourselves.

mere fractals dreaming
in a chalklike haze;
we're not the makers

of the Maze.

mary angela douglas 7 august 2016