I can turn out verse
In iambic pentameter;
Sentence on sentence
not missing a beat.

Rumbling, Crunching
Thudding, thumping
Trochaic Tetrameter
Feet hard Marching

Sound with emotion complete.

I can construct intricate rhyme
With meaning intwined, inflection sublime…

But what is this grammar of math?
What are these symbols so strange?

Poetry is music, poetry is laughter
Poetry is sorrow, and the tears after.

But this is reduction of meaning to numbers
This is dehumanizing death’s solemn slumbers

I feel the words rhythm,
Hear memories beat
Like a mother’s heart pounding
Like rain on a street…

But this is like white noise
A wall of negation
Numerology to summon
A Demon of despair,

Reducing me to childish pouting
And the words, “I don’t care!”