If I were a Roman,
I would still not use Roman numerals
because they’re stupid.
Actually, I think I’d be
more tolerant than that–
no sense throwing out
the baby with the bath water–
the first VIII are fine;
it’s when you get to the whole
“I” before “E” except after “C” aspect
that I cease to have use for the whole system.
Twenty-nine, XXIX, might be thirty-one, XXXI,
to a dyslexic person,
but what did the Romans know about dyslexic people?
They probably just called them dim
and set them near a street with a sign and a cup.
I’d be right along beside them of course,
seemingly just as dim
because somebody might have asked me
what you get when you add
seventeen and forty-four,
and I said
“I don’t know;
I can’t count past eight.”
I’m working on a nonfiction book proposal today, so you’ll just be getting this from the archives this morning. I hope you find something of value here. Hopefully I’ll be back with new stuff for the evening’s post. This is just a little light humor in an oftentimes too serious world. Share it if you want. Much love, and prayers for great blessings today.