243
To me, a numerologist
All figures bring relief,
Though any criminologist
Would call me common thief.
But burglary and petty theft
Are not what bring me glee.
When loot is taken, what is left?
Arithmetic, for me.
I like the way the numbers lean,
Am not a kleptomane –
Pure larceny is not my scene:
It's numbers keep me sane.
Perhaps you think it is my job
To pick your window-lock,
But when I set out late to rob,
I'm simply taking stock
Of numerals upon your gate.
That's how I choose and pick:
I do not need your glass or plate –
It's numbers make me tick.
I am the government. I come
To gain my false admission.
But I will only visit some:
I am a statistician.
At night, when you are fast asleep,
And held in golden slumbers
Into your lives I'll brothel-creep
And get myself some numbers.
