“Mathematics is the study
“Of revenge,” I said to Steven.
“Five and three are at odds,
“But together they got even.”
Tag Archives: Math
Compound Disinterest
Back in the age when wealthy folk
Made twenty cents an hour,
The internet was in morse code,
And photographs were dour
A strapping lass of 25
Dug up a hidden stash
Of gold bouillon from Mexico
Worth $20 million cash.
She put it in a bank account
That earned an APR
Of 65 percent a year
And traveled wide and far.
A hundred thousand years went by
And humans passed away,
But in an old abandoned bank
The fortune’s there to stay
Until some alien arrives
And withdraws so many bucks
That the number almost equals
How much I think soccer sucks.
Filed under Poems
The News Be Like…
It is a fact from an incited source
That 30 percent of collisions
Are the result of someone driving drunk;
In other words, poor decisions.
That means that 70 percent
Of sober drivers crash.
Driving without drinking
Is, according to statistic, rash.
That fact, if analyzed in depth
Means that driving sober will
Increase your chances by 133%
That, by driving, you will kill.
Filed under Poems
Math Is Hot
Circular houses are warmer
Than square houses, I’ve found;
Square houses are ninety degrees in the corners
But circles are 360 all around!
Filed under Poems
The Right Answer Is Not Always Correct
“You have sixteen melons
“And I take ten away.
“What do you have left?”
Just this gun and newfound prey…
Filed under Poems
Math Anxiety
My teacher asks “What’s the square root of nine?”
I say the answer is three.
The girlfriend asks “What’s the value of X”
And I say “She means nothing to me!”
Filed under Poems
But How Many Decimal Places?
I once knew a shepherd named Sadie
Whose business was just a touch shady.
She had 79 sheep
When she went to sleep
Then she rounded them up and had 80.
Filed under Poems
Math Meets Meth
They said “Name every number.”
I said “Paul.”
They couldn’t refute my argument
And, thus, that was all.
Filed under Poems
Bob Dylan, Social Justice, and Math
Take the number of roads
A man must walk down
Before he can be called a man,
Then multiply that by negative 1
And you have the number of roads you need walk to be called trans.
Filed under Poems
When Parents Use Your Full Name
I was not prepared
For how badly I’d be scared
When mom called “a^2 + 2ab
“+b^2, come here to me.”
FYI, my name’s (a+b)^2
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 