It’s certain, I’m moving my lips
Not to speak but gasp;
I’ve got cosmos on my fingertips
And nothing in my grasp.
Zero equals nothing,
Sum make a crowd.
Zero exists in my mind,
Only certitude of doubt.
Let me sin’ alone this time
It’ll only take a sec; then
Later we both shall cosin’
Times three in every tan.
I may try to move my lips
It’ll always be all for naught
I may grow infinite fingertips
Zero’s all I’ll’ve ever cot.
ENTROPY 