Love is complicated. Courtesy is simple. Start with courtesy.
At seventy-five I find myself in love.
Not the serene love of an old man
steeped in the wine and wisdom of years,
but one who would kill a dragon for her.
Performance poet (and math student) Harry Baker spins a love poem about his favorite kind of numbers — the lonely, love-lorn prime. He also has a complaint about Paper People. Here are two lively, inspiring poems from this charming performer.