Happy Pi Day 2024: A Sonnet
Irrational number, linear slice.
Settle debts by tomorrow; don’t ask twice.
Butter and berries and honey and flour:
A circular standard to mark the hour.
Caesar ruminates on the Ides of March
While Jesus Christ ascends his holy hill;
Confucius feels his lips begin to parch
As Socrates sips his poisonous pill.
An evergreen tree, altar by the lake,
Upholds an Attic shape, fair Attitude.
One thousand years of dulcet interlude.
His sturdy bones beneath the skin to break.
As Worf might say, ‘tis a good day to die—
Tomorrow; for today I want my PIE.