Maths Man

Maths Man

I met a man pushing his bike through Garryvoe

Going to Midleton for hinges and handles;

A Pythagorean, he spoke holy numbers:

We are number threads on a mathematical spindle;

A circle’s circumference is Pi times twice the radius;

Pi = 3.1415 with the series after the decimal point

Going on forever; this number is irrational;

The ratio that results when a plank is divided

Is that the ratio of the longer bit to the whole,

Equals the ratio of the shorter to the longer;

This golden mean 1.618 runs forever;

There is infinity between one and zero;

In fact the glut of fractions is never-ending;

He knew a farmer in Shanagarry whose mind

Archived cattle prices from the sixties onward

‘Now you know why I push my bike;

Numbers drive you crazy.’  Poor Gödel,

He found some math propositions unprovable;

Isolated, he died because he would not eat;

We live in geometry – that’s a finished fact;

He said: I can divide one infinitely small;

I can divide the road to Midleton in half

And each half infinitely down to a bare inch

And take the inch of tar and divide forever;

If there is always road to divide I am trapped;

Cycling to Midleton becomes impossible;

If I outraced light into Ballinacurra,

You would see me coming back, younger than my twin;

It’s the infinity thing that drives one crazy;

However big a number is you can add one;

But he said: The road will end in a particle;

It could be an electron Marlon Brando spat

When he cursed the censorious bishop of Cloyne;

So the end of his trek would be a quantum leap;

He might spin particulate to Ballycotton;

Mounting his bike he said God’s mathematical

mind had fully embraced her inner equations;

For God the mechanic numbers were numinous;

For numbers score the music of the universe.