Proving I’m a Bar Above My Asymptotically Equivalent Evil (with apologies to the laws of mathematics and morality)

Eleanor Jane Turner

Vivienne has been giving me evils,
ever since we sat in that perfect circle
and I was radiant eating pi(e),
having won the prime number challenge.

I’m the geometry genius,
a bar above the others, off the scale,
but plotted on the Cartesian plane,
with Vivienne, I’d have to say,

if I were to sum it all up,
there’s a high probability
we’re a fraction behind
or ahead (a decimal or so),

plus or minus, 
asymptotically equivalent,
but with only one place
for the top mark.

I’ve sorted them into sets,
the class are divided.
I’ve deduced it’s only
the minority who are calculus freaks.

Most prefer to be more integrated,
the majority thinking we’re odd.
They call me a nerd,
and we all know she’s a square,

so the positive is
we’re even.
The takeaway is simple –
she’s obtuse and annoying.

And when she confidently solved
that algebraic equation,
the product was
a noticeable difference,

almost the inverse
to my normal, calculated self.
I was rather irrationally triggered,
to reach for my compass in a mean fury.

It was so unmeasured,
leaning towards the chaotic.
I have no wish to be too graphic,
let’s just say I made my point.

Oh, how I wish I could rub it all out,
diminish or retreat to the corner,
so angle my chair to avoid her gaze,
scour the perimeter of the room,

sharpen ever-multiplying pencils
in my exponentially expanding stationery case,
as I calculate, plot against her,
wonder how to prove

I’m the ruler.

The Science

Pollution occurs when outside influences enter a system and disrupt function. In the poem, the narrator attempts to maintain a rational identity through mathematical order, asymptotic equivalence, probability, a calculated self, but rivalry intrudes as a contaminant, triggering emotional instability the system can no longer contain. The escalation mirrors an unstable feedback loop: the more the narrator calculates and plots, the further the system destabilises, until proof itself becomes the problem rather than the solution. The poem is subject to the same process: outside context can enter the interpretive system and darken a reading that the poem’s own logic would not support, which is itself a form of pollution.

The Poet

Eleanor Jane Turner is happiest when swimming. She enjoys the outdoors, especially remote Scotland. She presents her creative writing at the Forest Hill Stanza.

Next poem: Pseudo-nitzschia australis by Deidre Cavazzi