Numbers

They won’t stick.  They gleam like brilliantine.
perfect parsers, they jostle into essence
then reappear, renewed.  A trillion seems
just so many zeroes.  Xed-out, they dance,

Uncoupling and recoupling along a line
hoofing infinite movement, can-can-s limber
Leg and best food forward, tapping time
until time is up and they’re dismembered.

Dead-broke as syntax, clauses so declined
they tick themselves off.  It’s only beauty-
perfect measures measuring the mind –
mind tries to get around.  Pen, brush, or flute.

Equation tooled to figure life.  Amount
imagination multiplies.  Takes to account.