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Poetry of Issue #8        Page 11

Accidental Savant

A Tacoma furniture salesman
who likes karaoke and beer
is beaten one night

into a profound
concussion and awakens
to the geometry of rainbows,

to circles with corners.
Reality pixilated, all angle
and pattern, he pours cream

into his coffee and sees a perfect
spiral, pi in the light that arcs
off a couch. Lines obsess him now;

he stares at the curvature of spoons.
His brain sees the world
in flash-frames, the way I see you,

sitting across the table.
You’re made up of beautiful fractals.
This morning. Always.

Susana H. Case