The Derivative of Being

By Divya Mehrish

In chemistry class / I could never understand 
why Celsius trumps / Fahrenheit but not quite 
Kelvin / There is a point / at which molecules
stop / moving and life / ceases to exist / There is
a point / at which warm becomes cold / and silence
hits / in the form of equilibrium / I am still seeking /
this perfect / balance / Water boils and freezes /
at multiples of ten / and each spider web spirals /
logarithmically and snowflakes / are fractal curves / 
Our planet is nothing / more / than a mathematical 
textbook that has lost / track / of its units and chapters /
It is hardcover / and it explodes / proofs and / rules and /
equations and / symmetrical memory / at the swollen
periphery / of our vision / As a child / I used to beg /
for God to come down / from on high / and tell me /
why / the earth is grounded in math / why / not history /
or literature / or Latin / why / must our world / make
sense / why / must our lives / exist in accordance /
with numbers / why / must the sky / hold meaning /
between / each inky fold / of sunless clouds / why /
must there exist / patterned logic / to each breath /
we take / why / must there exist / patterned logic /
to our tired / tireless / existence / why / must even
this poem / be an entity / of reason / why / can’t this
poem / simply exist / in the absence of rationality /
why / am I writing / this poem / some sense / some
judgment / is driving me / why / can’t I just be /
writing for the sake / of putting pen to paper / why /
can’t I just be / why / is my very blood defined / 
by the pattern of flowing / by the pattern / of gravity / 
by the pattern / of up and down / by the pattern /
of rhythmic pumping / why / is there a musical hum / 
to the language / of my body / this poem is writing / 
itself / but why / am I letting / go / I just want to / 
write a poem / that evades / sense / I just want / 
my body / to make / no sense / I just want / my 
body / to be empty / of meaning / I just want / 
to make no / sense / at all / Tell me / if I pull
out / each stitch / of the math / knotted into /
my bones / will I still be able / to find home / 
in the repetitive / symmetry / of this planet / 
Tell me / what am I / if I don’t / belong here /

 

 

 


Divya Mehrish is a writer and student at Stanford University. Her writing has appeared in or is forthcoming in many journals, including SojournersPANKCoastal Shelf, and Amtrak's magazine The National. She is intrigued by the intersections of the written word with nature, politics, scientific innovation, and the visual and performing arts.

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