Do the Math
by Emily Galvin

Emily Galvin, as much a mathematician as poet, explores the connection between poetry and science by using the Fibonacci sequence and other mathematical formulas to create undeniably compelling and imaginative poems and short lyrical plays. But no mere math exercises, these poems brim with emotional insight and extraordinary wit. A significant community of readers, writers, and bloggers are treading the crossroads where math and poetry intersect and creating something entirely new and viscerally affecting. Emily Galvin is one of the heralds of this new movement with this dazzling collection in which science does not limit art, but enriches it.

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Light Warning

No.

Wait

for it. 

You know how

The air feels after everything

Has been carried out, doors and windows closed? 

Deep wintertime—I felt the cold coming through the glass, the old blade loose

In my left hand.  Late at night I used to sit against the window at the far end of my bed

And hope like hell that something would break through. The intimacy of drywall, cold air leaking through.  I watched the glass sink through itself inside the window-frame.  Sore ribs.  I kept on staring through, 

As if only waiting.  Wheels in the ditch. Body on the wall.  Red sky all night that time of year.  Where I live now, it never gets that cold. Sometimes, though, when the fires get close enough to let a little ash into the air, I think of windowpanes, and sparks fly out my mouth.

Note: A Fibonacci poem: The number of words in each line increases in a Fibonacci sequence.

Ω = Ω_m + Ω_Λ

DO THE MATH

excerpt

Ω_Λ

In the corner of the room, the heater starts up, howling. The joints vibrate and scream. After a minute, the sound diminishes to a whisper, as though passing out or just getting used to it. Outside, the trees are greener now that the sun is gone behind the clouds, and the water has reached the same shade as the sky, two bars of metal cutting the green.

Ω_Λ

Three, two, one: the friction kicks in. Inertia keeps things in, all but friction. But in general, there’s no need to stop, we can go on forever and even increase. Ω = 1: we could go on forever. But nothing’s slowing down. Everything just keeps on in acceleration, and even the love of our collective life, this little bit of earth and light in transit round a star, remains as distances increase, the things we haven’t thought of run away.