Thursday, February 4, 2010

Harold & Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay

Kumar--Poetry

A three is all that's good and right
Why must my three keep out of sight
Beneath a vicious square-root sign?
I wish instead I were a nine
For nine could thwart this evil trick
With just some quick arithmetic
I know I'll never see the sun
As one point seven three two one
Such is my reality
A sad irrationality
When, hark, just what is this I see?
Another square root of a three
Has quietly come waltzing by
Together now we multiply
To form a number we prefer
Rejoicing as an integer
We break free from our mortal bonds
And with a wave of magic wands
Our square-root signs become unglued
And love for me has been renewed