Numbers bother me.
Simple ones not so much but
ones that hide their true identity behind letters,
x and y and all that, they
Who do these shifty figures with secret
identities they think they are, super heroes,
carrying their power on their shoulders, numbers
to the power of other numbers.
And why must we always solve for x?
I think it’s time x learned to be a little less cryptic.
Now the price of tea I understand and I
mentally add up my grocery bill so I’m not dangerously
startled at the checkout counter, but
algebra confounds me
It sounds like a terrorist sect
doesn’t it? Al Jibra…
I love letters.
I love their clean, intelligent ability
to explain something with perfect clarity.
I love their infinite flexibility,
their magical ability to assemble into words, at once
familiar, yet with nuance and inference wide open
I guess I’ve always thought of numbers as the poor
cousins of letters, useful, but not very bright.