Numbers

They won't stick. They gleam like brilliantine.
Perfect parsers, they jostle into essence
Then reappear, renewed. A trillion seems
Just so many zeroes. Xed-out, they dance,

Uncoupling and recoupling along a line
Hoofing infinite movement, can-can's limber
Leg and best foot forward, tapping time
Until time is up and they're dismembered,

Dead-broke as syntax, clauses so declined
They tick themselves off. It's only beauty—
Perfect measures measuring the mind—
Mind tries to get around. Pen, brush, or flute. The

Equation tooled to figure life. Amount
Imagination multiplies. Takes to account.

Copyright © 2009 Katharine Coles All rights reserved
from Fault
Red Hen Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission