Real - 12/03/14

Tell me something I don't know
and sow a seed
of curiosity
that blooms divergently,
with no natural number
such that all subsequent
fall inside of an epsilon neighborhood.

Tell me something I don't know
about the intricacies
of continuity
and how to prove conclusively
when a sequence converges
to an element of the domain
and the function does the same.

Tell me something I don't know
and, soon enough, I will.

Tell me something I've always known,
something I've grown up using,
and accepting,
never expecting to have it
called into question
while reflecting on what
we'll consider axiomatic
and what we'll demand a proof of.

Tell me something I've always known
and throw away one of the premises
to watch how the truth
changes with changing mathematics
and, while you're at it,
reality changes too.

Tell me something I've always known
and let me prove it.

Library Trip - 07/25/14

The book you're looking for
is always going to be
on the bottom shelf
with the call numbers
on the front cover instead
of the spine
because
fuck you
that's why.

The people you consider
your best friends
are going to hurt you
in ways
your sadistic fictions
never prepared you for
because they can only
hurt you if you love them
and you love them.

This is not an exaggeration - 07/14/14

I did not make a mistake
   I am the mistake.
I am not in error,
   I am error.
I am not at fault,
   I am the fault.

What I'm trying to say is
   I really fucked up this time.

inverted circles - 04/25/14

i feel so goddamn hollow
like there's nothing left of me
but tired
like there's nothing left of me
but empty
like there's nothing left of me

no momentum 
no energy
no physics math or poetry

like i could pass
right through me
but i can't crease or tear

i feel so goddamn hollow

Coffee Beans - 002/17/14

Let me justify this
sleepless habit
by saying that
God
itself must have been
caffeinated
to create the world
in six days
and only rest on
the seventh.
So this rampage
through days
without breaks
is cleanliness,
as it is next
to Godliness.

I am drinking poison
designed to prevent
herbivores
from consuming
coffee beans
and I think
I've always been able
to feel it
but the only time
I couldn't ignore it
was when rainbows
covered chalk boards
on that first
24 hour mark.

WhateverWhatever - 01/31/14

I've got no doubt
About my side of the bargain,
But darlin',
I wish I did.
I can be sure
That my part is pure,
But it's you
I doubt to to oblivion.

And, somewhere,
I know better.
And, somewhere,
I'm not here.
There has got to be
somewhere
I don't disappear.

Whatever, whatever
I still got the radio
And I won't give a fuck
As long as this song's on.
Whatever, whatever
There's still tomorrow
To let it all play out wrong.
Whatever, whatever.

Better and Worse - 01/21/14

Nothing tastes better
than the smell of the coffee
you've been denying yourself
for a day, a week,
almost a week and a half.
You can smell if from
your professor's cup
across the room
and you remember
that every single
cup of coffee
has always tasted
good enough
to distract you from
the equations on the board.

Nothing tastes worse
than your lips
saying, "Yeah,
I started again.
I never really
wanted steady hands
and normal REM cycles."

topology - 01/20/14

i'm going to say some shit
about infinities
which will never capture
the affinity
i have for being able to prove
that some infinities
are equivalent
and some are bigger than others.
and the cardinality
of the union
of the set
of things i like about
proofs
and the set
of things i like about
infinities
is such a smaller infinity
compared to the cardinality
of the things i like about
you

and i know how to
prove it
mathematically

Radical - 01/16/14

break me
break me
break me down
into little pieces
you can swallow
you can handle
you can control
you can devour
break me into chunks
you can hold
you can lift
you can control
break me into
dull edged shards
you can touch
you can move
you can throw
break me
break me
break me into dust
you can't see
you can't cut
down anymore

break me because
were it any other way you
would be cut on my rage
could see my eyes blaze
couldn't throw me away
couldn't move me from this path
couldn't touch any piece of my skin
couldn't control any of my words
couldn't lift the weight of my knowledge
couldn't hold my attention
couldn't devour my heart
couldn't handle my power
couldn't swallow the universe
that I rule,
that I dominate,
that I understand and influence,
to grown and prosper,
that I nurture,
that I create.

Cold Turkey - 01/13/14

Two pressure points
in the minor fractures
of my scalp
from aimless thoughts
and concentration
picking away
layers of tissue
and bloodying my
fingers nails is
nothing compared
to the intoxicating
scent of fresh coffee
from the seat next to me.

Never should have
quit tea.

The Smallest Possible Unit of Soul

There's a quantum computer
in my soul,
impacting the body,
impacted by the body,
like a child and a fool,
rejecting that
"Whatever is, is"
and letting in stray cats.
There's a jumble of qubits
in my soul,
making errors and errors
on perception and sense,
on the way things are joined,
seen, heard, smelled, tasted, felt.
I experience the sensation
of perceiving you

(but you probably aren't there

[thanks, Descarts]

{But I think you are}])

in a transfer of information
as a superposition of
binary code
in infinite combinations
of α and β.

God,
mathematics,
and my own existence
search for an ad hoc
theory of everything
devoid of my sense perception
such that I cannot imagine.
What in my mind is innate
and where does it come from?

Blood&Bone - 01/08/14

I am the cure for the common cold.
I am a pot of coffee at midnight.
I am white blood cells.
I am critical mass of fissile material.
I am 30 hours, 40 hours awake.
I am complete the goal to eat.
I am weakly interacting massive particles.
I am color confinement.
I am so close to straight As.
I am decaying.

Doors and Stairways

My life has been all
doors and stairways
today. There have been the
wheezing doors of buses,
leading to the short, steep stairs
into the belly of the machine.
Doors in and out of classrooms,
stairs up and down floors.
Another bus.
In one building and out the next.

And then they turned on me,
doors and stairways,
twisting into a maze,
trying to trap me like
a fly in a web.

One door says "stairs,"
so I twist down them
and find a floor too late
the plaque reads:
"Roof Access
No B1 Access"
So I twist up them.

Second door says "stairs,"
so I peak inside
and check the plaque
before venturing down.
The plaque reads:
"No Roof Access
B1 Access"
so I twist down them.

Room numbers count up,
count down.
Jump to thirty,
jump to eight,
jump to forty.
70, 71, 79.
But a lime green post-it
on the door reads:
"Room 161
Phy 212 only."
79, 71, 70.
Jump to forty,
jump to eight,
jump to thirty.

wait for the elevator?
No, my life is all
doors and stairways
today. I twist up,
I don't ride.
Doors and stairways.

And skybridges
back to whichever land
isn't a maze.

Umbrellaless - 05/23/13

The weather tricked us into thinking
early May was summer
when growing up here
I should have known it was a lie,
so we've been going through
avocados and orange juice
like they're crack and tootsie rolls
and we've been pretending
computer screens are sunlight
and movie marathons are picnics.
We need the artificial sunlight
to block out the bad vibes
that the pounding rain
and air conditioning
in the dead summer dorm
have been force-feeding us
all week.

Second Things - 03/13/13

The second thing I think

when I pick up a pair of scissors

is what I'm going to do with them:

cut paper,

remove price tags,

free hair.

The second thing I think

when I look out over a bridge

is how beautiful the water is.

The second thing I think

when I see a piece of rope

Okay, that's not a good example.

I haven't seen any rope in some time

and I don't know what the second thing I'd think

would be if I did.

What do normal people think

when they see rope?

The second thing I think 

when I pick up my razor in the morning

is where I'll be shaving.

I'm waiting for the day

when the second things I think

will be the first things I think

and the first things I think

won't even cross my mind

because those scissors don't cross

my flesh anymore,

so why do those thoughts

still fall past my eyes

and drown heart beats

in nerves;

so why do those thoughts

still linger,

hung from the rafters

of old habits,

the way I still skip meals

not on purpose, 

but because I honestly forget,

patterns ingrained no longer in my veins

but parts of me

still think they are.

The Ultraviolet Catastrophe - 03/04/13

I built a world
on observations of stars
running backwards,
missing pieces,
imaginary numbers,
and infinite energies
in all the wrong places.

So when the i's
fell into possibilities,
as probabilities somewhere,
as certainties some times,
gentle lines fell along data points
and familiar constants
marketed security as truth,
which I bought in
tera electron volts.

Calculators away,
pens down, papers over,
but left behind
were a pile of dots and squiggles
and my imagination
to build universes
from the scraps of broken lives.

Haylie Says Things And I Listen - 03/03/13

When she described me to her friends,
she said that I had eyes that looked very



far


away, but dressed like I knew
exactly where I was.

Photon - 02/01/13

I feel like a photon,
light:
massless,
unconstrained,
free.

Yet full:
infinite,
stable,
existing across all time
and no space,
everywhere and when.

I feel like a photon:
light and full.

As I wander,
I am going
nowhere and anywhere,
with all the time
in my frame.

If I could feel
each separate atom
I am comprised of,
would I feel
me?

But I do not feel
in Newtonian systems
but as strings of events:
a bend in the knuckle
to a wrinkle in the finger,
to a twitch in the forearm,
to a soreness in the shoulders,
to a stiffness in the neck,
to a freedom in the mind.

I feel me
all at once.
Like a photon.

Light and full.

West and Lance - 09/14/12

I wrote you a letter

And I sent it in the mail

And I hope that you get it soon

Because life is better

Though the world is frail

And I need you to know it too

The internet can't deliver

Butterscotch candies

You can't fill and email with glitter

It's enough

To keep in touch

But heartache requires so much

More to keep you from growing bitter

So I wrote it all down on paper

And shoved it all inside

An envelope no bigger
Than the words that I did write

I sealed it with a poem

I signed it with a sigh

I sent it off to no one

Who can't tell truth from lie

I wrote you a poem

And I sent it in the mail

And I hope that it finds its way home

Because despite the world's solemn

And despite the world's ail

I want you to know how I’ve grown

I’ve written 300 poems

About giving up

And only a dozen about trying

I’ve spent so much time

Keeping it all inside

From the actually tears

To the fear of crying

So, Hallelujah,

You can break me down

Any time that you like

Because though he's on the east coast

And she's within a day's bike ride,

It'll always be there names

Those cords bring to mind

So I wrote it all down on paper

And shoved it all inside

An envelope no bigger
Than the words that I did write

I sealed it with a poem

I signed it with a sigh

I sent it off to no one

Who can't tell truth from lie

I won't ever know

Whether it was just a phase

But I know that I never will care

Because each painful step

On each tortured leg

Are my stories to share

Are what got me from there to here

This is what I need to tell you

This is what you need to hear:

I love you, I miss you,

I'll never forget you,

Our friendship grows stronger each year,

You're brilliant, you're beautiful,

Hilarious and wonderful,

Steadfast and noble,

Insane and uncontrollable,

And you've given me the strength

And the hope and the brains

To continue without any fear

So I wrote it all down on paper

And shoved it all inside

An envelope no bigger
Than the words that I did write

I sealed it with a poem

I signed it with a sigh

I sent it off to no one

Who can't tell truth from lie

I Hope It Wasn't Taboo - 09/12/12

Standing on the pulpit
of a Catholic chapel
doesn't bring me any closer
to God
than sitting in the woods.
I figured that as long as I was
at a Catholic school,
I might as well look around
and see if he 
was there.

I met him once
in my backyard,
watching cottonseeds exist
and I met him again
in my bedroom,
sipping orange juice
and blasting music.
I created him in my mind
and I've killed him
once or twice.
I've asked him about math and physics
and about fate and destiny,
mostly to yell and argue,
because he never gives any answer.
He was my favorite hallucination
for a couple of weeks,
but now I like
the characters in my stories
a bit better.
But I haven't seen him here
at a Catholic school.
His "son"
is in every one of my classrooms,

but where is he?