Roman Ryan

Big random numbers
weary of holding up
the one that comes before.

Always more than one,
that's the danger of being
so many ones at once. 

I am a big random number.

My numbness at the 
digits marks the indivisibility
of my absolute irregularity. 

I grab at the threes in me
trying to make fairy tales
from static narrative. 

Were that I were irrational
or infinite
or accurate to the math.

I would take my bath
and let my hard edges soften,
filling me up with eights. 

It's never too late 
to go up
in age.