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REPORT COPYRIGHT VIOLATION IN REPLY
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Message Subject
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music for nerds
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Poster Handle
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Anonymous Coward |
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Post Content
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When ink and pen in hands of men inscribe your form, bipedal P
They draw an altar on which God has slaughtered all stability
No eyes could ever soak in all the places you anoint
And yet to see you all at once, we only need the point
Flirting with infinity
Your geometric progeny
That fit inside you oh so tight
With triangles that feel so right
3.14159265358979323846264338327950288419716939937510582097494459
Your ever-constant homily says flaw is discipline
The patron saint of imperfection frees us from our sin
And if our transcendental lift should find a final floor
Then man will know the death of God where wonder was before
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