Pathos - Winter - 09-10

Page 18

poetry

In the Forest of Numbers Megan Jones

I choose lovers the way I pick lucky numbers Always looking for the primes The space between nothing and one Shape, symmetry, internal harmony The {absolute} values – But angles of silt and shame Bisect at despair Straight angles twisting Into fractals, null hypotheses Increasing doubt exponentially Every relationship tracing crisscrossing Functions of wh(y), a romance of Divine proportions always bloated Beyond recognition by our salty algebra Chaos theory predicted well the Demise of my obtuse love triangles The asymptote of stability Never attained, only approached And I am but a little girl lost in numbers2 A zero slashed through

1. “In the forest of numbers, a little girl lost” - Federico García Lorca

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P at h o s • w i n t e r 2 0 1 0


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Pathos - Winter - 09-10 by Pathos Literary Magazine - Issuu