i love

imaginary numbers,
‘cause they don't have fingers
to point at me;
they don't have noses
to sniff at me.
they can't tell you
what they mean
in any other way then what they are,
just like i can't tell you
what i mean
in any other way than i can't do the work.
i can't focus.
i can't do it the way you want.
i keep trying but my mind doesn't work
in rigid reality.

i walks down different paths;
i says there might be a different way to see reality,
a way that reality fits into but cannot predict.

i asks if we both might be wrong.
i says we probably both are wrong.
i says we could love each other anyway.

the magnitude of the homework i have done today
can only be stated in complex numbers.

i couldn't explain to you
what i is
and what i does
more than i can explain
where i came from
and where i is going

you can look under a radical sign
and get a hint
but that's it:

all you will find
is negative one.