Nov 25, 2008


a mathematical composition of music
fails without that certain intuition
which is but tuition to an institute
of ignorance and mock comprehension

as equations themselves fluctuate
in the steady-state of now and now
and here again an atomic clockwork
splits to splice a shell entwined

as ideals undo the dream of day
as dreams cull this winter night
within dim fabrications of data

as rose bulbs in cold compost
compose ariettas less of thorn
for blood than ice for summer