50p
Fabrications 12
In remedial math we learned
That a hyperbola
Grows infinitely close to an
Asymptote, but never touches it.
As I gazed away from the messy chalkboard,
I thought:
That’s a little sad.
In history class, the teacher said
That in Japan, there is an aging population
And a generation whose half-forgotten poetry
No longer sings of love.
As I gently closed my text,
I thought:
That’s a little sad.
In Chemistry 101, our first lesson
Focused on
How atoms are ninety-nine percent
E m p t y s p a c e .
As I placed down my pencil,
I thought:
That’s a little sad.
In biology, it seemed
That the birds and the bees had
Only one goal: survive.
As I packed up my binder,
I thought:
That’s a little sad.
In English class, the poets all
Mused upon the
Imminence of Time and the
Finality of Death.
As I filled the page with marginalia,
I thought:
That’s a little sad.
But in physics, I was told
That light is the
One True Constant.
When I see dappled hues flecking
Through the ocean’s spray,
I tend to agree.
When I see world the colour
Of bone and beauty
From the late November moon,
I concur.
When I look up to the stars and see
A thousand in your eyes -- and
The history of humanity,
Of ecology, of astronomy,
I see billions of years in your
Perfect eyes -- and I hope
That you are not a curve,
Nor I an asymptote.
Lindsay B.E., Alexandra '14,