e is a number
transcendental, like pi,
head aflame, opaque
as an integer –
beyond the decimal point,
the remainder shudders
infinitely narrowing, knowing
the equilibria with darkness.
or else, we come to comprehending
the gist of an enumerated word,
note its cadence. but unable
to locate its particular accent, we concede
(draw rough spirals,
on grid paper, on innumerable
axes for avoiding embarrassment).
we go on and graph the fluttering,
shadowy codes of Babel,
computing towers of their undefined minutiae
reverberating through something extra-
tensions satisfying our equations.
is equal too
1 November 2017