Article for 2012 Sep 25

Something seems amiss, like a square abyss.
The sun’s aglow, but my world’s a square;
my mind is a wrecked tangle, heaving here and there.
The degenerate geometry, difficult to dismiss.

Four lines encompass the current era:
Chemistry and Physics, lines running parallel,
Math’matics and Latin complete the carousel.
Chance of their intersection? Zero.

Square numbers also keep my cage:
my form-room is Room 9; my IQ is 144,
incidentally the same label as on my locker door.
Square the four sides and it’s sixteen, my age.

Two squares p.m. - 16:25 -
the roundfaced clock did say. I saw a popinjay, a hopping jay,
and that happy jay was heard to say “The world’s okay.
Life may be a square, but the angles are alright.”