cold sweat slapped on my body as if carelessly
but with
paradoxical studied abandon by a pastry brush
a pastry brush of
demented purpose and I have solved
issues of mathematical complexity
with the mental agility of a bat flying radar-down
cruising with eyes alone
for a laugh
then there is
my propensity for influenza-induced equational dexterity
a novel way to solving brain aching conundrums such as
inter-dimensional matter transference well well well
I know how now yes I do
of that you can be sure
I worked it out in my fever it’s all down to a certain number
all you’ve got to do is bracket it
and
do the good old
( )
and square it by a -3
wish though
I could remember the
number in the
brackets
she was right I should at all times keep my trusty
Blackpool Zoo Pen and Notebook handy on the bedside table
I have only myself to blame and now to the other
dream
I can see a house in the distance it’s a big bugger
a bit ramshackle but the equations hold together
the gutters are integers the chimney is a cosine
and the caretaker a fraction of the man I always wanted to be
there he is tending the garden of prime numbers but
the green house, the one
full of near-extinct logarithms has had most
of its glass panes broken but that is another issue
another story for another lifetime
and my ancestors are stood there in front of the house
they are beckoning me encouraging me
and all that stands between my good self and my ancestors are
a large number of topiary figures
some shaped like small birds ones a wren
defo [and a neat little wooden gate swings]
the rest the rest they are an assortment of jungle animals
an elephant laurel bush a lion hawthorn
a large alligator
privet
and I look and look and think it all looks like too much effort
and then
WAKE UP
Raise a flag of vengeful calculus
and
radiate.
