Scarecrow Contemplates Pi
At the moment you snipped away
my reticence, I spoke so eloquently
that even the stones wept at your
indifference. As you arranged my
pose and buttoned the shirt
around the wire and fodder
replenishing my torso, I understood
your roots and mine should never
merge: transcendental, and in
collusion with the irrational, we
circles cannot be squared. And
how must I reconcile my unheard
words? The longer I speak the
greater their magnitude – a balloon
expanding in volume retains its
ratio – one day my words will sift
through your filters and you will
at last receive them. I pull this
particular comfort close – that
patterns and frequencies and
tendencies become law, that the
fleshless and soulless, the mute
and misunderstood, the powerless,
the different, nevertheless will be
heard. But what of love? How may I
contend to feel, to know that which
is your right? A nervous system
conducts electrical and chemical
impulses, yet lacking these, my
coreless heart sags at the thought
of your departure. I am no man.
Is this truly not enough?
“Scarecrow Contemplates Pi” first appeared with two companion pieces in Eclectica in summer 2016.
O at the Edges 
I always enjoy Scarecrow’s reflections.
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Thank you, Merril!
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You’re welcome!
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A not enough with a heart that sags to the core……….Nicely written!
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Thank you. Not enough is often too much…
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Too much of everything heading towards the bad…….it depends on whether if the dice that’s cast turns out to head towards that direction. A probability…….
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Reading this in light of recent encounter with yet another mass shooting …
“patterns and frequencies and
tendencies become law, that the
fleshless and soulless, the mute
and misunderstood, the powerless,
the different, nevertheless will be
heard.”
Our country’s refusal to break the forming pattern strengthens its appeal for the next misunderstood, otherwise-powerless voice screaming for recognition. If only disturbed humans could somehow summon Scarecrow’s patience …
Scarecrow can’t understand that sometimes being a man is too much?
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That may be the very essence of what Scarecrow is asking – too much, not enough – where is the definitive line and why is it constantly shifting?
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Lots of questions … more poems from Scarecrow, please!
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I’m certain that Scarecrow has more questions!
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I first read it as “the powerless, the difficult”–Scarecrow is obviously already blurring those boundaries. We need all the help we can get. (K)
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The difficult could indeed be included! We do indeed need help.
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Wow! Moving piece.
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Thanks very much, V.J.
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My pleasure, Robert.
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I feel a great affinity with ol’ scarecrow.
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Scarecrow is everywhere. And nowhere.
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