like a soul in the cleanliness of a realm

whose mathematics cannot lead to error.

Spinoza so loved the triangle

he wished to appreciate God that way.

Pythagoras distrusted nature. Its even numbers

were to him, in their easy divisibility, female;

though the four spiritual violences, four heavens, four hells

are, like a six-figure salary,

more than seems, strictly speaking, necessary.

The three ways the devil is among us, you should know them.

And the three waters to which we may be lost

that flow from injury, exhaustion, sorrow.

Five rows of folding chairs were the first thing police saw

in the starved toddler’s home, and in the home

the seven symbols, and the five kinds of harm.

In the highest place, without society, of no definite colour, beak in the air

sweetly singing lives the solitary bird.

The three laws of inner recollection —

do not be lukewarm in this work.

Rubbing at your imperfections as at old stains.

The fifteen strengths are outnumbered by what must be learned,

even more so by what must be avoided, a list too long to get into here

but one Socrates may have pondered as for twenty-four hours

he stood motionless in the snow, no harm done

to body or mind,

composed, altered, erotic, detached —

a story told also about St. Columba

who, nicknamed St. Colm by the lowland Scots

was known to the English as St. Qualm, meaning

torment, violent death, destruction, plague.

Cassian’s six ranks of angels conform to Columba’s,

which Pope Gregory, the Great Administrator, improved upon, adding three.

In Bill Wilson’s Big Book, twelve steps conquer addiction.

There are twelve rungs on the Desert Fathers’ ladder to perfection.

All you have to do to climb the last one is to die.

AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER WITH HE WHO HAS BEEN LEFT ALONE TO HIS PERILS

Coming across a thing like this      it isn’t right

A pile of cast-offs      off-cuts      mistints

roll-ends      I’m not sure

to whom      but he is an insult      No

I know you didn’t say anything

and anyway      it’s no crime to resemble discarded inventory

not a crime to regard others

with what appears to be only basic species recognition

his narrowed eyes      and laid-back ears

the unnerving impression he stares at a situation behind us

becoming more and more likely

You’re not one to judge      No

Nor am I of course      but clearly

he does not have both oars in the water      does not try

to spare the soft parts of his footsoles

like the rest of us      When he was a child

did a moth fly into his ear      did he rest too long on a stone

and catch a cold in his head      It’s unnatural

or overly natural      What can one do with someone

from whom nothing can be taken

He’s done it to himself      hasn’t he

A RETREAT

My friend A. owns a model of wireless optimism.