I was never good at Math,
because my teachers could
never see what I could see...
that 1 + 1 didn't have
to end in =2.
1 + 1 =
fifty-seven and apple pie,
twenty-four and a Jeep Cherokee,
thirteen tattoos and one gold tooth,
Elmer's glue and blue jazz,
white weddings with an
attendance of one hundred forty-seven.
1 + 1 =
peanut butter and jelly,
logic flying out the window
with her long red curls
at the beauty shop,
a pack of hungry
pot-bellied pigs
storming the local deli.
1 + 1 =
so much more than 2.
2 is all the
narrow-minded can see.
To feed 20 with 15 apples,
I always make applesauce.