It’s not just mathematics
that reigns incomplete.
For example,
one axiom of poetry is this:
nothing can be taken as granted.
Another is this:
nothing can be proven.
Another is this:
nothing can be axiomatic.
The intuitions of poetry
are far from clear
or clean
or true,
unlike a point or a line or a square.
Poetry is non-formal,
but always and ever
new theorems spring from it,
new infinities arise
proving its inconsistency.
Poetry is
the postulate of the maybe,
baked all the way into the cake.