Calculus jokes—
That’s what I see when I close my eyes:
Calculus jokes.
You scribbled them
                (I remember)
In your spiky handwriting
On my English notes.
                (I wrote around it,
                In case you were wondering)
We laughed under our breath
Half-listening to advice on synthesis essays
                (We’re AP material, after all)
And I scribbled some, too,
Blue ink next to black
—Like our eyes, only opposite—
Giggling like the schoolgirl that I am.
               (Going home to dream about you)

It’s funny,
Because I stopped dreaming about
Your face.
It’s all numbers now—
Numbers and calc jokes—
Eyeless, brainless, voiceless
Scribbles.
               (I guess that’s what you’ve become)
A mess of falsities,
Of integrals and curly hair,
Of high-waters and dirty Reeboks,
And ego—
Your ego.
                (I guess senior pimps
                Are too good for math geeks)

Last time you told me a joke
It was about how many
Girls
You could score at a dance
                (Not how many blondes it takes
                To find x).
I have no interest in writhing whores,
So come talk to me
When you’ve rediscovered the humor in scribbling
The integral of e to the x equals f of u to the n
On my English binder.
                (I was good enough for you last time you wrote it)
It was you who changed,
Not I.

I’m either good enough for you
All the time
Or not at all.
But I refuse to be your backup plan
                 (The answers to your math quiz)
For the moment when
She
Tires of you.
I saw you before your “glory,”
                (Who do you think will see you after?)
Saw an awkward teenaged boy
Running at my academic coattails.
                (You’re still awkward,
                And you’re still running)
But I don’t see him anymore,
Just the veneer he’s put on,
The pedestal his ego’s erected,
And his calculus jokes.
                (You’ll tell them again,
                But don’t count on me to listen anymore)