If one could know just how to sneeze,
or find it close enough,
they’d see how flowers charm the bees,
and other lovely stuff.
Though one is much like two, they say
(at least the ones who count),
it’s never just a numbered day
or simply an amount.
For if you get to three you find
that you’ve climbed high indeed;
if three is one within the mind,
how hard is thought to read?
And after that comes five, you see,
the fifth one on the path,
for if a will is truly free,
it’s free for faulty math.
The tenth thing that I have to say:
I find it very odd
that numbers between numbers play
within the mind of God.
And doubled up inside a cup,
deferring to my betters,
imagine, they’ve made numbers up
just scribbled out of letters!
So look at that nice letter e:
I heard it from my dog
that it’s somewhere ‘twixt two and three
and written on a log.
These numbers don’t make any sense,
at least no more than words.
Though I don’t wish to give offense,
I say they’re for the birds.
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