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I'm tired of triangles:
by Meredith C HartwellYour twisted corkscrew isn't fair:
I'm the spiral here,
the air in your lungs,
the wind in your sails.
You were the flame [but you got cold].
Now you're just a circle [we could have been infinite]
and a ray [if you hadn't darted off in another direction]
leaving me segments and a mirror
and an awkward hypotenuse of my own.
Your angles are all wrong:
Whole isn't 100, it's 360,
but you cut yourself in half.
Show me the sine
[O/H : you always like to be on top]
or take your little tangent.
Even if you get the angles right,
do the math.
Prove the theorem.
[a^2 + b^2 = c^2 :
I'm bigger than both of you.]
The shortest distance between two points is
[I'm putting my foot down.
You crossed]
the li[n]e. 03/14/2007 Author's Note: Point A, Point B, and the shortest distance: You know who you are.
Posted on 03/14/2007
Copyright © 2025 Meredith C Hartwell
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Steven Kenworthy on 03/14/07 at 06:18 PM wow...i stumbled across your work on total chance and i'm ultra impressed with this mathematic delight. the science and math of love is a tricky business, but i love how you break it all down here so systematically. sometimes...the shallow and hurtful ones become statistics anyhow. perfect ending by the way. |
| Posted by Joe Cramer on 08/30/07 at 01:14 PM Outstanding!!! |
| Posted by Amy Wustrin on 08/03/08 at 06:26 AM flawless math, flawless punctuation, flawless delivery. What kind of a chump passes up on flawless? |
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