Remember that summer when
edges went? The whole night
became concentrated darkness.
A neon moon against a pitch sky.
Not enough to light the backboard.
Bills not paid but we were up by
two in the third game of the best of seven.
Their point guard calling an illegal pick
as we double teamed, breathing like dogs
on a leash. I was staying in the spare room
of your house. Living below the line
like denominators until I learnt Algebra;
from the word Al-jabr – the reunion
of broken parts. Your nephew the third man,
floated by (a silver shadow) and drained
a three crunch through the chains.
His motto Those who lack the courage
will always find a philosophy to justify it.
It is a state of being unrestricted.
My wife’s fortnightly child-support cheques
last three weeks. All numbers are divisible
by one: the act of being divided. Isn’t the God
of the Hebrews also the God of Islam?
We are at right angles the sum of each other.
And then there is zero (that empty place)
where heat and light are meaningless.
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