Deux mille dix

By | 1 November 2017

So she says her book
Has no beginning and no ending

Unlike the architecture
Of many books.

She says, “because numbers
Are in order but can occur

Anywhere, anyhow, in any
Odd combination

Sometimes called physics,
Occasionally called time,

Sometimes calculation, chaotic
Order, though some are formulaic,

Therefore with no beginning
And no ending, one leaves a space

For recounting. Maybe rearranging.”
That’s what she says.

The tsunami of netting
holds numbers for a year, a particular one

that’s now past. Washed over. Old news.
Old news twice. Yet why so fervently deny

narrative? That was then. This is now.
Is there no order? No priority? No sense to be made?

No revelation at the end? The plot
is not to have one? Does this mean no quest?

Red trap with an orange streak.
2 “x” 1000 “+” 10 “=” deux mille dix.

Two zero one zero. Twenty-ten. Twenty-eleven.
Who knows how this ardor will play out?

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