I also call this An Ode to Caf. Read it from left to right, much like Anglo-Saxon poetry with a half-pause in the middle of each line.
| An ode to caf | I think I'll cue. |
| Espresso caf, | I think I'll brew. |
| Oh no, decaf? | A task Tim blew! |
| Alas! the gaffe! | You see I'm blue! |
| My output math | is cut in two! |
| No caf I hath, | no math, I'm through. |
| (sigh) | |
| Fear not the wrath, | no one I'll sue; |
| With half and half, | try two I'll do. |
| A cup o' caf | I shall imbue. |
| To turn the caf, | equations' glue, |
| Into the math, | said Erdos too. |
| From caf to math: | a theorem true. |
The poem has the tightest rhyme of any I've written. The real question then becomes: How was it that Beowulf slew the beastie Grendel without the aid of the electric brew?
Copyright 2007, Tim Davis. Please don't copy-and-paste or hot-link this poem without permission; link to this page instead: http://www.cise.ufl.edu/~davis/Poetry/caf.html
If you like this poem, you can find more poems at Horror Matrices and Other Mathematical Poetry. Click here for an index of my serious poetry.