To Scare The Mathematicians Poem by Jesse Statman

let's go out into the city tonight
i live on the streets of this city by day
and parade into homes for spare change by night
to wait and go out into the city again

let's go out into the last sighting of the plane crash
and watch as the pilot gets out
let's allow ourselves to scare him
because there are only three of us

let's go out into the complex pathways of the park
wherever someone has dropped the system onto its feet
and crafted a disturbance through their innermost thoughts
that's exactly where we'll be

let's go find the corpse of the bride whose groom injected her
with whatever is found in the boxes that should never be opened
you can never know the power of this box
because the box holds only what is inside the box, and nothing more

let's go find a syringe to make tracks with in the sand
only to find that this syringe cannot bring you back
yet without the syringe, you wouldn't need to
so you would exit the beach, unharmed by the storm

let's go into the woods at night during the storm
and bring three others to scare the mathematicians
are we six? ten? four? two? one?
but if we are one, the mathematicians are in on it, too

let's forget this ever happened
no - let's pretend this isn't happening
because it never ends, and will always wait at the back of the hallway
for those who understand it well