For Geometry

Tonight, a few words of praise
for the simplicity of special triangles,
whose sides will always be directly proportional,

whose angles will never change,
and who still fit every axiom and principle:
they may be the special exception,

but they are nevertheless the rule.
I love the way "in general" means "always"
and principles can be summarized with a, b, and c,

that what is done to one side
must be done to the other,
the symmetry of two parallel lines cut by a transversal.

I love to write proofs in chalk
and watch simple steps transform into logical conclusions,
individually and collectively

like harmony and melody, scales and arpeggios,
like subject and predicate, indicative and subjunctive.
We pretend to hate geometry.

We pretend to hate the rotations
and the way shapes can dilate our eyes,
shift on the page, optical illusions;

we pretend our fear and awe is loathing
and that we feel incongruous,
as if we don't correspond to the numbers in front

of us, as if the logic is too complicated.
Simplicity is much too complex for us.
Or maybe we simply crave moments of clarity.