Poems

The Lonel1est Number

“One is the loneliest number”—what a fable!
He is, by far, the most congenial
Seated at the multiplication table,
The most accommodating one of all.
What quantity without him could compose?
Yet singular spot on the number line
Assures the ridicule of larger foes:
Poor one, it seems, is never in his prime.
Glutton zero swallows malefactors,
Always taking, adding nothing in.
But one does not subordinate detractors:
He’ll even make an odd one be his friend.
Leviathans bow ‘mid this numerical sea
To thee, the number of identity.

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