Going Infinite
after Nick Flynn
Archimedes preached infinity
in everything: the plodding tortoise,
the arc of a catapult, the swing
of a sword toward your throat.
Even the curve of a conch shell
goes forever inward to an ending
too small for us to see. I put my ear
to it and hear Do not disturb my circles,
and learn that even genius cut in half
and half and half again can fit
in the boat of your cupped hands. So what
am I left with when in the library
of Alexandria, the man and the math
become ash? What outlasts what outlasts us
and makes the geometries add up to one?
Archimedes looked up into the universe
to learn that legacy is less the stars’
shining than the endless scribblers
below, who know that even this paper
folded forty-two times would be enough
to reach the moon. Give me a place to stand
he promised, And I will move the earth.
ANDREW CHRISTOFORAKIS is a poet and cubicle-dweller based out of Naperville, IL. He studied economics at the University of Chicago before taking a hard left turn to creative writing. He has work published or forthcoming in The Ekphrastic Review, West Trade Review, Ink Nest Poetry, and Sheila-Na-Gig.
Read more by Andrew Christoforakis
Poem in The Ekphrastic Review
Poem in Cathexis Northwest Press