I’m sure that I will always be

A lonely number like root three

The three is all that’s good and right,

Why must my three keep out of sight

Beneath the vicious square root sign,

I wish instead I were a nine

For nine could thwart this evil trick,

with just some quick arithmetic

I know I’ll never see the sun, as 1.7321

Such is my reality, a sad irrationality

When hark! What is this I see,

Another square root of a three

As quietly co-waltzing by,

Together now we multiply

To form a number we prefer,

Rejoicing as an integer

We break free from our mortal bonds

With the wave of magic wands

Our square root signs become unglued

Your love for me has been renewed

‘Super-microscope’ opens at Isis

Posted using ShareThis