The New Math
There are these notions of how the world would be better. Shoot all the anti-Semites. Wear only
red socks. Hunt truth like the wolf hunts elk, in packs, with relentless teeth. Make language stand
up and be something like a house, give it the force of wind, the courage of a storm to destroy
itself. What we think of as wild I think of as honest. Doing, not what you think, but what you are.
The difference between counting the rings of a tree and finding a place in the sky. A theory
toward wolf would be a fine addition to the history of advice. Train the spine to walk on fours.
Claim only that which your urine can touch. Find faith in the scent of things. Humans are
metaphors. Chagall was a synagogue dreaming of being a man. When his paintings meet, they
lick each other like wolves. I go nowhere without alienation, I carry it like a pouch of anvils, not belonging is the way I belong. This brings us to the strange math of our heads, the impossibility
of dividing by zero. If we could solve that equation, we’d be happy. I give you pencil, I give you paper, I wish you luck. Wolf would make a better denominator. Divide any number by wolf, you get wolf.
Bob Hicok
