Call it what you will, it’s still the same.
The cinderblocks all stack upon each other,
The bells ring softly, fool begins to smother.
Don’t ever lie to watchful mathematician;
He’ll find the truth like x in an equation
And let you know your words just don’t add up.
All Things Equal
21 Jan 2013 8 Comments
in Poetry Tags: Edgar Allan Poe, Poetry, The Cask of Amontillado
Jan 22, 2013 @ 00:10:39
hmmm… who is that mathematician by the way!
Jan 22, 2013 @ 12:35:52
It’s certainly not me–I’m no math wiz
Jan 22, 2013 @ 23:14:51
I thought that watchful mathematician is God, but I wanted to have your interpretation.
Jan 31, 2013 @ 13:48:40
My interpretation was that of a jealous husband–but a jealous God works as well
Jan 22, 2013 @ 11:23:35
Nice one, WC. Could the mathematician be our Creator?
Jan 22, 2013 @ 12:33:37
Hmm…I hadn’t written it with that interpretation, but it is certainly a valid one. Thank you for bringing new insights to these words!
Jan 23, 2013 @ 18:36:27
Ooh this poem is full of foreboding ~ makes me think my writing is being scrutinised by the Mathematician ~ and found wanting! Who is he I wonder. My son is a brilliant mathematician so I am used to being careful what i say ~ but he never reads what i write so I am safe there!!
Jan 31, 2013 @ 13:49:23
Your writing is never wanting; you have nothing to worry about!