“Pascal the Parrot Passes” by Jim Zola
Pascal the Parrot Passes
The forest molts in sympathy,
an enumeration of binary trees,
the beak wiped clean although it is
already clean. I’ve always hated math
because it adds up to nothing.
Count the lumps on the widow bark.
Weeping. I much prefer
the fibonocci sunflowers
winking in my corpsy garden.
I deadhead the possibilities.
Sometimes I dream my legs are roots
reaching for the discontinuity.
Mostly I sit and count the hours
in hope my dour philosophy
won’t ruffle god’s feathers.
Jim Zola has worked in a warehouse, as a security guard, in a bookstore, as a teacher for deaf children, as a toy designer for Fisher Price, and currently as a children’s librarian. Published in many journals through the years, his publications include a chapbook — The One Hundred Bones of Weather (Blue Pitcher Press) — and a full length poetry collection — What Glorious Possibilities (Aldrich Press). He currently lives in Greensboro, NC.