Tuesday, June 22, 2010
When ink and pen in hands of men
Inscribe your form, bipedal "P"
They draw an altar on which
God has slaughtered all stability
No eyes could ever soak in all the places you anoint
And yet to see you all at once we only need the point
Flirting with infinity, your geometric progeny
That fit inside you oh so tight
With triangles that feel so right
3.14159265358979323846264338327950288419716939937510582097494459
Hard n Phirm
"Pi"
Horses and Grasses
Labels: lyrics
# posted by Blind Orange Julius @ 9:21 AM 
