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
—by Douglas Pinson
The Purpose of Life is Life