Spinozablue

Everything is ex
There is no why

We don’t have a clue
We don’t have a rationale

Beyond bad or good or great
Fictions

This is how we survive
This is where it takes place

My store of knowledge
Is on East Main Street

So the Thought Police usually
Leave me alone

 

There is strength in numbers
Fewer than twenty

More than that and we have
Problems and they

Investigate
They always investigate

Big numbers
Big figures

Big loops and swirls
And counterfactuals

And
Golden means of production . . .

They also tend to
Giggle at Fibonacci

When they see the name
In Nature and beyond

I hide them in the back
So the Thought Police

Never see them
I hate the way they laugh