Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Proctoring poetry

Random scribbles from another two-hour session, this time for an advanced mathematics exam:

Smart Fly

A little after one,
A little fly flew 
Through an open window
Into the room
Where forty-one seniors,
Bent over calculators,
Fingers twirling in hair,
Heads down, eyes here and there,
Worked on the semester one
Math exam.

Less than halfway into the room
The little fly made a U-turn
And flew outside again.


The boy sniffling a lot,
Blowing into tissue a lot,
Looking and sounding like he's about to die
A lot,
Isn't wearing socks.

Mathematically Impossible

Even if you calculate the remainder 
     of a string of numbers,
     when divided by rational roots,
     some things remain irrational.
If you get to the root of the equation,
     examining interior angles,
     following parallel lines,
     certain things will never equate.
Even if you do know x and y,
     having checked all probabilities,
     it's probably still unknown
     why she's your ex

     and not your infinite one.

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