There is a mastery in your perfect numbers
All corners aligned just right
Seeing buildings never seen before
And with them taken apart
Or just going up
All stud and joist
Crossbars at waist level
And then again at nine feet
Leaving room for plaster
And subfloor
All of this is a guess
Since your perfect math is so peculiar
No wonder there are whole sects
Entire clubhouses
Ancient societies coveting the trade
For in the mortar and crosshairs
Lives untellable secrets
When walls do talk
It sounds like tires screeching
And so many chariots drawn to horses
Thirsty for organs
Not the kind that grind
But the kind that process
For in their perfect solitude
These angles and depths
Know no peace
Flexing when they must
And disintegrating in harmony with the elements
It is invisible
The performance
A sweet symphony of diagrams
Blueprints
And reference points
But indivisible
From the form itself
That perfect destiny
Of effort and material
Where all things are measured
Twice
And cut
Once
--
1.10.11
All corners aligned just right
Seeing buildings never seen before
And with them taken apart
Or just going up
All stud and joist
Crossbars at waist level
And then again at nine feet
Leaving room for plaster
And subfloor
All of this is a guess
Since your perfect math is so peculiar
No wonder there are whole sects
Entire clubhouses
Ancient societies coveting the trade
For in the mortar and crosshairs
Lives untellable secrets
When walls do talk
It sounds like tires screeching
And so many chariots drawn to horses
Thirsty for organs
Not the kind that grind
But the kind that process
For in their perfect solitude
These angles and depths
Know no peace
Flexing when they must
And disintegrating in harmony with the elements
It is invisible
The performance
A sweet symphony of diagrams
Blueprints
And reference points
But indivisible
From the form itself
That perfect destiny
Of effort and material
Where all things are measured
Twice
And cut
Once
--
1.10.11
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