Oh shit.

LOL (I'm a bad influence apparently)

At least we're consenting adults. What gets me is when youngsters are forced into math against their will.

Enjoying.

milner

thanks, Milner. am hoping some kind of dramatically enlivening idea hits me one of these days...Tom

The gods we send come limping
back just whipped,  their tails
between their legs—astonished.
No one wants to hear they have
got to undergo a transformation
first, or nobody goes anywhere.

They think it's math
that has three heads.

Math education has fallen flat.
Students see a yawning gap
between numerical equations
and any fruitful undertakings.
The alchemists were zealous
disciples, no? Cold fusionists?
They tried, only it didn't work.
Gene Roddenberry's as close
as humans got, but Star Trek
was sol staged—and cheesily.
And don't say, “Oh, we've got
New Math that kids will grasp.”
Whose bright idea was that?
Kids aren't conned that easily!

As soon as math accomplishes
what people don't believe it can,
they call it by another name.
Who cries, “Math made a steel
behemoth climb into the sky!”?
“Math freed my lymph nodes
from their deathly demons!”?
“Math brings the light of day!”?
“Math breathed life into clay!”?
Math is the single tool we use.

That's what it is.

The noise you think is the noise
of a chainsaw is My voice.

The sight you think is the sight of
a squirrel in the leaves is My
avatar of a squirrel in the leaves.

You know nothing of Me because
you are  Me in ski pants.

My matter is pure mathematics.
All else is ripples on the pond
which resist the idea of returning.

I'd leave it, if I could,
but it's me, so I can't.
I suspect it's how far
everything's degraded
from sheer use.
The forms we made
originally shimmered;
when I behold them
now—the edges,
the relationships,
so indistinct—I have
to question, yes, if
there was imprecision
in the ur-equations.

Just send me back to
Earth with her.

Then it's agreed.

What did
I  agree?
All you do
is spit math
into thin air
and entice
flesh beings
to contend
with mists.
you're like
good humor
truck guys
who have
nothing left
to sell except
their frost.

Don't scoff
but imagine
how many
calculations
are involved
in shaping
every single
drop of rain
and every
bit of dust?
How many
algorithms
when they
commune?
We exhale
a thousand
times that
every hour
but it is still
more than
we want
to abandon.

Josiah, it's time
to come home.

Sparking in the microwave made enough noise to set the dogs barking, who we were watching for the neighbors during their big trip to Maui. The barking brought me downstairs, and there was Katie gazing out the glass of the front door at something, to judge by the awe on her face, that might well have been a miracle; but being who I am, I rushed over to turn the microwave off and give the dogs a dirty look before joining her at the door, by which time the spectacle out in the street had moved on. Her eyes were wet as she told me that a hawk had swooped down on a pigeon, tussled with it a little bit right there in the street in front of the Browns' house, then lifted it up to a perch at the top of the ash tree at the corner. “Why was the microwave doing that?” she asked, and I told her that I thought it was maybe the staples in her tea bags; if not, we might need a new microwave. She smiled and put one hand on the side of my shoulder as if I were the one who might need bucking up, and it felt so good, I thought that maybe she was right.

Wow. This is going to sound weird, but I loved just scrolling through this one.

Your timing was good, Jay, I just scrolled through it this afternoon myself and cut out about 300 dumb lines.
I appreciate your looking in and encouragement! Tom

Different meds can affect each one of us differently, but this doesn't read like any NyQuil buzz I've ever encountered. Hashish, perhaps? Mushrooms? ACID?

Do have fun Tom...just not too much too often.

Vivian

Vivian, thank you, LOL. Iif there can be so much psychedelia in a little peyote button, how much might be indigenous to our brain? Tom