Monday Poem

Pi —(Pi day, one day late…)

pi is perfection with api loose end
3 point 1 four and so on
without pattern or closure

the precision of a mandala
drawn by a drunk on three martinis
not describing wholeness merely
but thinking odd numbers
spouting them while rambling home
disheveled, irrational, unseemly
as the similar square root of 2
at the point of life and infinity

Jim Culleny