Guest poem submitted by : Today's poem inspired me to dig out this poem by Judith Saunders.
(Poem #1315) Mathematicians at Work hunker down on their hands and knees
and sniff the problem
poke it with ungentle fingers
rub it raw with steel wool
wad it up in a ball and cackle
then pound it flat with little mallets
watch it rise like dough (uh oh)
resume its original shape
screech, swing at it with hatchets
spatter the walls with oozing fragments
stare horrified at the shattered bits
reassembling themselves, jump up
attack the problem with icepicks
gouge holes six inches deep
and seven inches across
(chew the mangled matter
spit it out and belch) kick the thing
into a corner, remove their belts
and beat it senseless, walk off
with the answer in their pockets.
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I don't know if it meets your criteria with regard to Saunders being an
established poet; I can find little out about her. However, this poem
was professionally published; it appeared in the Mathematical
Intelligencer, I believe in the early 90's. I still have the photocopy,
which I've taped up near my desk at many places I've worked. I also
found this poem:
[broken link] http://braden.weblogs.com/poetry/euler
which I'm sure is by her and also appeared in the Intelligencer; this:
http://www.marist.edu/liberalarts/facviewer.html?uid=jzlt
would appear to be her home page. So: up to you if it qualifies for the
Minstrels. [yes -- t.]
As for the poem itself, what I like about it is the way it captures the
sheer joy of mathematical aggression. Tearing a problem into shreds is
pure competition, between you and the Platonic world. If you don't know
anything about mathematics, this poem tells you more about what it's
like to do research mathematics than almost anything else could.
Mike.
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