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