Cavendish Impression 卡文迪什印象

You don’t want to dance with me, but walking through benches
and iron pendulum spheres, waiting for a patina-crested statistic
to emerge from the pond stench of algae blanket;
You don’t draw. You only hammer-tap with the haughty tip
of algebraic knuckles over those 17-year-old Fourier aliasing
on oscilloscopes, spoiling R values to probe the nerves of chaos
and linearly stretch the justice of numbers. There is no affinity
that cannot undergo non-Frauhofer entwining through
the ultrafine geometry of reflective coating; delayed propagation
disperses romanticism - Would you like to draw? You leave
the most reliable paleness to the timer reading after 100 counts.
Yet I see pen and paper first, then it is the poleis; Despite
the probability is spared by mean, absurdity slides down between us,
more obscure than it is when an index finger skims over a book spine
10 years later. You are coding the functions in your header file,
the ducks swimming deeper into the willow shades. Archimedes left already,
since everything above has not yet died. Would you like to
dance with me? - your stubble might disclose to me
that all your rejections are false negatives in Bayesian tests.
We might remember something that cannot be formulated, like Samba,
Tequila, the baby daisies outside liquid nitrogen station,
with the tips of their tiny petals gently curling up.


《卡文迪什印象》

你不想和我跳舞 而是穿过长桌与铁摆球
等待一种统计戴着铜绿波峰钻出藻类的瘟腥
你不画画 你只用代数高傲的末端指节敲打
示波器上宛如十七岁的频域混叠 纵容R值
刺进乱象的神经 线性拉直数字的正义
没有什么亲切不能通过反光镀层的极小几何
进行非夫琅禾费扭结 是澎湃的滞后
使浪漫主义色散 —— 画画吗？ 你把
最可信的苍白交给计数一百次后的读秒
可我先看见的是纸笔 然后才是城邦；
即使均值赦免概率 我们间仍会有荒诞滑落
比十年后的食指划过书脊时更令人费解
你正将函数写进头文件 野鸭子游进柳荫深处
阿基米德离开了 因为天上的一切尚未死去
和我跳舞吗？—— 也许你的唇茸会泄密
说那些拒绝是假阴的贝叶斯判定 也许我们
还记得一些不能被书写之物 像是桑巴
龙舌兰 液氮存储处的小雏菊 瓣尖轻轻翘起