The mathematics of creasing

The mathematics of creasing

In the café he ate nothing and said he wrote
his PHD on the mathematics of creasing.
To make it easier he explained that it wasn’t
like the Geordie who got hit by lightening and woke up speaking with an Italian accent
even though he had worked in a Newcastle factory all his life;
that thanks to symmetry they had figured out how to draw fur,
that some sort of earthquake had happened in technology
and made the parts all come out of their burrows and work properly
like an eye unable to stop looking.
His jumper rucked as ribbon he told her that 16 bit circuits were now puree,
that sitting rooms across the country were drowning
in a wave of short circuit reality.
Like Mike TV his cheeks pixelate and she hears currencies
clanking into an arcade machine,
the blunt grass around the building all dizzy,
someone complaining of a reindeer eating glass
outside their chalet.