The Dreamworld of a Mathematician ~ Wednesday, October 15, 2025

The bodies of women, murdered, buried
hidden beneath humus, where, forgotten
each corpse, brutally raped, their locations

burned in his memories, beside the road
or, in a fresh garden, how convenient
dead but not forgotten, beneath the sun
in a ditch, not easy to find, trash cans
easy, too easy to get caught, he knows
sick, spiteful, unattractive, yet brilliant

of the bodies, he keeps a ledger, where
for the most part, meticulously set

written in code by a madman, the choir
of angels in his mind praise his black cat
mentally, his focus, to sharpen claws
enter this den of iniquity, thrown
neatly in a pile, down in the basement

messy garden apartment, where he lives
under the cover of darkness, at dawn
resting comfortably on a firm mattress
deep in sleep, delta waves, the ceiling slant
endlessly strange in design, he behaves
reasonably well inside, no bodies
end up here, he was once a man of class
despite his avocation, he reads maths

beloved professor, hit by a car
underneath the facade, all of the deaths
remains a man who can no longer hear
in this world, known by all of the ladies
energetic, helpful, genteel and kind
despite his dark hobby, he lends a hand