Vectors

Plaid shirts and expertly tousled hair congregate outside my window...the smell of vegetable soup wafting through the air~...

I'm trying out a new type of poetry now. Not to replace the old, but to complement it--stretch and rotate it, through the x's and holes...the exes and wholes; and halfs and everything in between.

But if I can speak in f's and x's, and f(x)'s, frontwards and backwards, from the origin of me; if I can tempt brilliance (when I don't come up empty), would you call me a traitor?

...or could I be
splendidly
multilingual?