Each face has its intrinsically unmeasurable beauty.
Inside I am astutely breaking down numbers
into their prime factors;
as I look out I see the polgons on your wrinkled skin
retain their topological invariance as you speak and gesture.
What’s that for?
Yes,my eyes say,I hear you,I am listening;
I’m a lake of warm water,Fall into me and float.
At one end I keep a Thesaurus of real and imaginary words.
They are waiting to inform me of my next disappointment
With the so called Real.
My false self is so true to herself
She has become real….
Declared as such by Royal punctuation.
My real self is waiting to get married…they are both female you see,
~So it’s going to be a really gay occasion.
We hope you can join the three of us.
I am a trinity;I am a reflection of God
in a puddle of rainwater.
There is the real self,the false self
And I who observe… A spirit one might say,for now.
The lacquer which made my pen look expensive is peeling off.
Underneath it is a crude orange..
So it has lost sophistication but gained
An edible appearance to a hungry writer.
And now I am a cheese tart in a dish on your table.
You may gobble me up and I shall see the glint in your eyes.
After a while we’ll have transubstantiation
When I become you though I shall be invisible to human eyes.
The polygons look weary,Topology may describe but won’t help.
Let me touch you.Let me feel you
And see if my fingers can account for all parts of you…
See it’s all intellectual work and so for my homework
I must take you to bed and count your bits all night…
and of course you can count mine.Then we can dream
Of ripeness and late roses which bloom in winter.
Do we agree or disagree or is such language completelt inappropriate?
This is one kind of examination but not another.
the trick is to know which.