Gautam Naik
Ode to pi
I am drunk on infinities and will now perch
on pi’s wobbly stool, with its one leg curved up
and the barfly end sloped in.
And after I’ve ordered a long, cool draught
and felt its slow pleasure cream down my throat,
I will think of Ahmes, who first unscrolled you
in papyrus yards to a Pharosh’s walls.
Or how great Archimedes tried to compute
your fractious twang in a peasant’s lute.
Perimeter to diameter: 3.14159...
Irreverent threes and devil sixes,
the mincing ones and skater eights,
the vast hordes run, disintegrate...
But I, having god nor plan, would only like
to peel back the skin of night
and ride your long, riverine spine
to a bald moon and a gasp of stars.
Glean there a digital shudder, the heart’s beat:
Transcend. Transmute. But never repeat.
Page(s) 12-13
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