Dying in Math Class

I being me will leave you sometime
like wings
lighter than song.

all it takes is a beauty
heard not seen.

A moment when the 
inner thing decides
to take over.   

A joy when the eraser
and your old math teacher
appear at the board. 

To start again. 

She, looking like a sexy thing
in a bag 50's stripe style
eating chalk dust turns to us

Algebra is here. 

Wings. 
time to sing. 
sleep.
die. 

Remember them well
60 years ago.

I used it today
When they arrived
three of them in the ambulance. 
ten minutes without air
five minute conversations
with the grand kids. 

Home from school
with report cards too. 

"Grandpa passed away"

Count down to zero
and go play.

Nothing equals 0 and
you, me and we. 
It's all very big. 
Wait. You will see.

Math is useful
flat line fears
gone forever
One is here.