do you want to know what really a radical is—
not the poor men who always just seem to miss;
the old mathematician-magicians mark it well,
though the statisticians’ acquisitions never tell:
every sound you’ve ever uttered trite

was born but once and without fight.
don’t ask how but why they are the way they are—
see how—without quantity—words can so scar,
and heal, reincarnating inside us righteous fear
and hope, that all we wish for is all-ready, near.

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