once upon a time
i was sitting in a calculus class
and all of a sudden, in a flurry
in a hurry, in a moment quite blurry
i slipped – no – sank
into an ocean inside
no sound could i hear
but a murmuring, a bubble-ing
a muffled kind of blubbering
waves and waves away, it seemed
but that was not important,
for i was in my ocean
limitless and bottomless
and wonderfully fathomless
and i swam, deeper, and deeper still
right, now, then left, till blue
turned to green, and green
turned to gold, and gold to white
and then – all the colours
of sun-on-water
now clear, now a whisper
whirled together, kaleidoscopic
(70’s cinema)
like a marijuana high
and at the bottom – but no, it was no bottom
just some place that looked
like a bottom, for there was sand
heaps of soft gold, twinkling fuzzily
and mellowed, quite prettily
by the water
(like in a swimming pool)
and there, i saw
a chest
a wooden chest it was, the type you so often see
or read about, in fairytales, and storybooks
and precious such things
and so i laughed
and thought, let’s open it
it most certainly contains
a treasure of some sort, going by my
implicit faith
in fairytales
i had not
a glimmering of doubt
that it could be anything
but a treasure chest

and then, of course
you know how the story ends
or perhaps, how it all began
for the chest, was indeed
a precious treasure chest
and from it i grasped,
handfuls of thoughts
bizarre and exciting, ideas
throbbing with adventure, and magic
so that i had
quite a job of it
stuffing them in my pockets
mouthfuls of dreams, which
i swallowed
sweetly and syruppingly, and quite yum
ticklingly, like milkshake
sherbet
or, more philosophically speaking
nectar and honeydew
and then, like the poet Coleridge
or maybe in a position
somewhat better, happier,
satisfied and gratified
and altogether magic-eyed
i found myself sitting
in a calculus classroom
f(x)=x2 + 3x + 1…
but i heard it something like –
the function of (poetry) is equal to
(imagination)2 + 3 x (spirit) + a treasure chest.