Alfred E. Numeric

Sitting on the front porch of our cortex,
numbers shine like highly polished knives,
ready to just jump into the vortex,
bringing great precision to our lives.
All lined up in single file or columns,
marching through the tunnels of our brain,
there to scare out all the pot luck golems,
with their mathematical refrain.
One, one, two, one, three, one, two.
Clouds are white and sky is blue.
Nothing wrong these digits cannot cure.
Life is tainted, but these numbers pure.

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I'm a writer living in Massachusetts.