Science, Math, and the Elusive Logic of Love

Science, Math, and the Elusive Logic of Love

I wander through my parent’s second story,

Sit down, try to study my notes on dioxins, DDT.

It was the worst argument in our history,

Now I just want to tell you about persistent estrogen mimics, PCB’s,

And the effects of altrazine on frogs.

What can I do, math is next, working on logs.

Your anger was justified, though I won’t admit it.

If I had control, my anxiety attacks would happen when I am alone.

You called me when you came home, you saw the empty closet,

I purposely left the dirty dishes and that half-eaten calzone.

My screaming, reeling, crisis mode, your utter exhaustion,

Combined, like nitric acid and hydrazine, leading to combustion.

You don’t have to convince me, because that void I pretend isn’t real

Gnaws at me, and when you say we still belong, inside I say, it’s true.

I feel the need to shine, blinding you, as if I am steel.

Now you show you are vulnerable, bendable as gold.

We are oppositely charged ions, we already formed a covalent bond,

I look in the backyard, I start to notice the fractal in a fern frond.

-Sarah Polansky

Maddie's Poem

Part One

When we met, I hugged you awkwardly, and you flinched.

I am still oh-so-awkward but you don’t flinch anymore.

At times I push the boundaries of awkward

You smile, shake your head.

When we met, well, I don’t like to think about that much,

Do you blame me?

I like to think about the moments we were together

Away from that place

Being Real People.

I wanted to belong somewhere,

I never did belong in that place,

But I belonged when it was you and me.

I felt fake and disgusting, manipulated, confused,

I was a single black feather in a cloud of white.

Or so I thought.

Things were darker there than I first imagined.

You may have saw this, felt this too,

Maybe that is why you wanted me there with you.

Part Two.

Wait, so what did happen there?

I still feel unable to explain.

If I was asked to summarize,

I would tell you this:

We followed the light into a cave,

I blew it up with some rancid dynamite I found there,

Thus, I escaped.

Soon, you were able to follow.

I am thankful for this:

We are still friends.

We are not fake.

We are not doomed.

We are Real People.

Nothing is Black or White.

I don’t care who is condemning you,

They are wrong.

Together we know these things.

Not from speaking them,

It grew twisted inside us until

Recognized as Truth,

It was allowed to grow, unhindered.

-Sarah Polansky