On the beauty of petrochemicals
To the mathematician a good theorem
is more beautiful than any poem
can ever hope to be: its elements
universal and eternal, unlike shifty words.
To each his ohm.
Oh yes they do
belong in a poem.
Let others sing dandelions
and galaxies: an art worthy
of the name (in this language,
on this day)
needs to make its peace with plastic.
Poor Prometheus, who learned the hard way,
said, Cunning is feebleness beside Ananke.
An old Greek word for the notion
or law or Goddess or compulsion
(depending on your source) of Necessity.
Born of Chaos in the shape of a snake,
Ananke is braided with Time and
wreathed around the egg
that is the world
tighter even now
so as to extract what must be
from all that you were once given.