Question For Dead Euclid

I have wondered how hard the task might be---

to write, and publish, bad geometry:

to turn from postulates and common signs

of computation toward inchoate lines;

to break the whole in preference for the part---

and call it "the effusions of my heart,
"from which all of my written efforts come,"

and this promotes only a zero sum,

in which all bad geometers take pride

in dubious results that quickly slide---

like an invigorated parody---

into that bottomless pit, Travesty,

that suffocates all forms of artistry.

 

And yes, this poem presents metonomy.

 

Starward

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