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Message to Readers

why does everything i write end up being about math

a lament for amah

March 21, 2019



the unknown is inherent 
to all the faces in my math class 
and every grandmother  
i do not know the name of. 

between complex fractions 
i scribble poems and blue hearts
and my amah is a crooked smile
through cracked glass

while i count numbers at the
kitchen table mom stirs soup
and stories and my amah is an enigma 
too other to crack 

       that is the war of strokes
       over jumping planets; 
       this is the aftermath. 
a crossable ocean and a known universe
exists somewhere but i must expound
this graph by crossing the linear 
and no point i make is ever accepted 
this is a graph of contention;
this is a plea to a god i've never argued with; 
this is a need for a bandaid
and a glass that won't crack. 
i must know her beyond 
these fucked up cosmos 
i must know her beyond
my tongue useless over
syllables i cannot spell 

       in that other universe
       i pour her tea.  
       we sit at the kitchen table
       and count numbers



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