one

this poem was largely inspired by jeanette winterson and structural anthropology

Claustrophobic world
Closes in around me
My six-sided box
Shrinks, one cubic foot at a time
Until there is one left
one, by one, by one
Multiply one by itself
Three times
And it’s still one
Still just me
Trapped here inside these glass walls

Everything is distorted by glass
If it’s thick enough
I’m not really sure
How it works, but
It’s something to do with
The way light bends
Sort of like the oasis
Coating the black
Pavement ahead
On a hot desert day

The physics of movement
The geometry of light
How perfect do conditions
Have to be
For me to step
Off this building
And fly?

I won’t be able to judge
Through the walls of my box
So I’ve quantified everything
Right to the nearest
Degree/angle/abstract variable
But how do I apply my newfound equation
To my desire for emotion
And how do I calculate my wingspan
From my want of flight

For when I fill in the numbers
It’s still one cubed
It’s one by one by one
Multiply one by itself
Three times, and it’s
Still one
Still just me, trapped here
Inside these glass walls