Robert Atherton

Maths is a language in a made up place

Scream enough!
Pee till you wanna
Grab you round
The cold air sweeps
And the sunlit metal
The wooden frame
The ticking clock
Surprise at the dusty paper
Soar eyes from
Thin lines
Bold and black
The native tongue
I do not understand
I do not speak
In this land
The words are hiding
The radius of a sphere
So that means
The square root
The sevens and the sixes
The figures
Maths is a sequence.