Isabella drew a circle,
Seymour drew a square;
Their existing exigencies
Weren't visible there.

Because she a perfect circle
And he a perfect square
Drew, neither could tell
What neither would not share.

Unforgiving in their essences,
Their perfections all complete,
Their subtly managed excellences
Guaranteed them each defeat.

Friends intervened to proffer
A softer and more gracious line:
That each might stoop to offer
More than symbol or mere sign,

And bow perhaps to conquer,
Yield perhaps to win,
Or, infiltrated with honor,
They be a blessed twin.

But not even Pi or anything
Else can bring around
A perfect circle and a square.
Their exigencies are such as cling
To what is never found
And what is never there.