OVIDARY
It doesn’t add up
never adds up
no simple algebraic sequence
formula to string us along
was playing an ancient game
with sacred pieces
imagining them
split into armies
of wasps
versus bees
a metamorphosis
which poet Ovid himself
would have been
singularly proud of
proving
it is the angle with
which you align
from which you write
which
changes everything
when
as atoms ourselves, we
thought atoms
lived
and loved
and worked
within
that classical system
and then
we saw things differently,
saw ourselves
differently
watched the sunlight split
refract grow
so
diffuse
suggest
a different way of
seeing everything
taking
a fresh look
changing everything
and so I say
rewrite
the poem
if you truly must
do
the research
open the book
go into
exile, assume the default position, dodge
excesses of power
and political will
so
tell me about
kitchen alchemy
on the farm
how the brain breeds opulence
as it
thinks itself as myth
so much before us
well and truly fleeced
golden fleeced
finally
the numbers
according
to which
it multiplies, divides, defines
extending in every direction
to meet the hallmarks
of geometrical progression
the art of love
in every configuration.
poems 2 die for 