Numbers and Desire


Numbers, how many are the parts,
Tell me with cold exactitude, of Desire.

You cannot, with your detachment from emotions,
Risk entering into the pit of reductivist theories.

Speed is constancy accelerated just for fun.
So what people earn accrues with interest.

And when one long party is finally over
You arrange another almost straightaway.

I record all the tears and all the wasted years,
I count every wave that crawls on the beach.

I count too the frequency of your dinners
While you infuse them as a single linear event.

Your problems are the instances of guilt.
As you prefer always serene easy feelings
You tend to forget how often you raid the fridge.
Numbers, you fail to give me an answer.
Logic, in its fairness, at least explains
Longings by a differential calculus
As tangents on any part of a circle.

Silence! I beg you, while I display a few
Of the variables between Being and Desire.

Bevagna, 21 3 2013