by Jessica L. Walsh
—for Sarah
The mathematical lie is x
My problem can’t be solved
for treasure or emptiness
much less a number
that wobbles on a cliff
of less or more
How can this be soothing
the seeking of equals
when not even one is one
but possibly three made of ones
that defy census
God I am trying to solve you
inside all I’ve learned
My husband won’t write your name
and if he’s right
if a word for you can’t appear
in my notebook
the pretty one I bought
just for working on the problem of x
where x is your name unwritten
then how do I begin
Let us say the stages of my faith are five
No
That is grief
but the stages of grief are certainly not five
Let us solve for grief
when x is the number of mirrors
a mirror sees in itself
when x is y/0
when x is the number of things
that didn’t happen
The mathematical lie
is a graceless space
predictable fair
where each side gives equally
of itself
and no matter
the steps an answer
yes just that
an answer
looms
JESSICA L. WALSH is the author of two poetry collections, most recently The List of Last Tries, as well as two chapbooks. Her work has appeared in RHINO, Ninth Letter, Whale Road Review, Stirring, and more. She is a community college professor living outside of Chicago.
Photo: “Nature Fractal” by Michael Lux
I love this. I love poetry about math and science mixed with questions about life and existence.
Speechless i am.
So much of this speaks to me. All this week, all our conversations (my husband and mine) shoving god aside, POOF!, but he creeps up the riverbank again, his wet eye always finds me, slides in some nook I thought I’d locked down. I will never stop trying to solve for X.