Murder and Create

How should I begin? I find myself residing At the dried out end of a dead history All my thoughts are dirt Scattered on a coffin And I a dilettante funeral spectator here How should I presume? A besuited bourgeois mourner Virgin to surrender and vivid sense I scour lichened stones Desperately seeking Daedalus's paternal secret of where we will land Well I was born with four fingers on each hand And with my eight fingers and my thumbs I do maths Once again, how should I begin? I've started weak and I'm stuttering But I have remembered all my lines It seems that I have thus presumed To talk of maths in front of crowded rooms But I'll make the two times table mine How should I begin? I find myself residing At the dried out end of a dead history How should I presume? A besuited bourgeois mourner Virgin to surrender and vivid sense? Calculus finishes me I don't follow trigonometry I've got nothing to add to algebra The more complex functions I don't remember But arithmetic The absolute zero Is arithmetic on fingers and toes I have remembered all my lines And I'll make the two times table mine I will not presume, but I will thus begin