forty two, as all good
intergalactic travelers know
is the answer calculated
by the cosmic computer
that is the earth
to the question
it is six times seven
which, the commutative property
of multiplication insists
means it is also
seven times six
makes you think
forty two is an age
which seemed slightly
over the hill
once upon a time but
now feels achingly young
forty two is everyone else
when fifty eight percent
of the american people
agree on something
forty two ways
to leave your lover
left to our imaginations
by mr. simon
the atomic number of molybdenum
which is a rare earth metal
that our bodies apparently
need for things like
dental health
forty two floating in space
attaching itself to our lives
in unpredictable ways
i have no idea even now
why my pencil thinks
this all adds up to a good poem
but the pencil seems to be done
or at least seems satisfied
and i am sure it has at least
forty two reasons why