December 31, 2011 § Leave a comment

figures race across the page
the paper is their stage
the ink: simple actors adorned
in bristly loops and graphite thorns

it’s a whole new world
it’s a lonely world
hypothetical theta is the ruler
he is the one we must conquer
to escape the glacial red
(don’t let them catch you or you’re dead)

run up to the derivative, run
up each slope toward the nonexistent sun
be careful not to fall, fall, fall
and never escape at all

there is no escape in the land
of infinity

Note: A very rough poem about how I feel when I’m doing calculus.


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