# Writings

Also see Stories.

## 1. The encounter

*Written Mar 5, 2013 at the prompting of a particular
Umaimah, who provided the final two words.*

Sitting under a tamarind tree one Midsummer’s evening,

A shade of unconscionable measure presented itself to me.

Rubbing my eyeballs to verify it was not an experience counterfeit,

Its permanence made it clear I’d have to rub my eyeballs with it.

Slowly the phantom morphed, untouched by conformality,

Its edges’ angles twisted in an elegant brutality,

Quickening its pace placidly, the figure self-inverted,

About an axis whose understanding can be only called perverted.

Among its many features one struck me as particularly singular,

The edges of its form met in quartet perpendicular!

I tried to capture the specter in the confines of my hands

But undisturbed it passed right through the material of our lands.

Without parallel, my normal decor

Lost an inhabitant of exotic **R**^{4}.

## 2. The square root of two: irrational

*Written Jan 12, 2009 after an IAP Math Lecture Series
lecture about treating mathematical writing as a literary genre.
I’ve read this at a tEp rush event I’ve run the past few years
called Dramatic Proof Reading.*

having area two,

a square has side length measure

unlike a ratio.

a ratio walks in.

I am he, the side’s measure

completely with form.

square yourself, ratio.

if you are the answer then,

two is your area.

righteously, he grins

double his bottom square is

a square of his head.

behold! it is fine!

I am the ratio you want

do not test me more.

his head is even

for, when squared, it is even,

ponders the side length.

his head is too full

he be cut down the middle

and he be my length

the mask he now wears

is transparent. Imposter,

may you be banished,

that none of your ilk,

your infinitude of form

ever try to be

as length of a square.

infinitely halving is

impossibly whole

be gone forever

as your head cannot be whole

and nor your bottom.

## 3. Spoon River Anthology

*These were meant to be poems in the spirit of the Spoon
River Anthology when we read it in Spring 2006.*

**Ellis Stanton**

I lived a life of fun and games

Going to parties

Drinking

Then I died

I feel bad

I had accomplished nothing.

**Evan Summers**

I was a concert pianist

playing music for hours every day

never ceasing

Carpal tunnel plagued me

I lived the rest of my life

enjoying others’ music

I gave and gave, then I got.

Then a piano fell from a crane.

I died.