Lessons from Math Class: A poem

 Lessons from Math Class

I understand that hell is full of songs,

                         and that the chip on my shoulder is from the constant gnawing at my bones.

I sense that the same divinity who sculpted our geometric cosmos, had the

                                 g r i t   to carve out my dimpled back and

is responsible for sewing the springs onto my tender skull. I am not responsible for those scars

that taste of inconsolable temper.

                                                     To my understanding, nothing is coincidental but

how

come you are as predictable as the sun, and ride on the Milky Way so effortlessly?

I long for such paradisiacal kismet.

not everything must be understood.

and nothing that is observed

Is unaffected by the observer;

For the reasons I cannot save my sunken dreams,

Or drown in the pool of eternal life…

I have mastered the art of patience.

When I cannot solve for x,

Or refuge in the comfort of my solace…

I am destined for change.

For the same reasons you cannot divide by

zero, or prove that there is a God…

I have adapted to the idea of an indefinite world.

And for the reason that math is independent from everything,

such as a supreme being…

I swim through constellations of boundless possibilities.

because infinity is potential…

I am reminded that I, too, cannot be counted.