after Sokai Hoitsu
Some are drunk. Some are mumbling.
Many are solitary, each in his way fixed.
They are all happy over their very good number,
an easy square; its root, six,
itself a lovely number, exponential chrysalis.
And if, in the array of patterns
taken from nature — clouds, spider webs, starfish,
we might yet find a true square
not one of these thirty-six, not the one
whose square is on his sleeve or heart, cares.