They should have sent a poet

My O(1) readers are probably restlessly wondering where I’ve been, why I have no more posts about the mathematics of toilets, and what’s up in general.
Well, the truth is, I did have a wonderful post on the mathematics of toilets (regarding putting the sit up or down in a mixed male/female environment), but have been beaten to the topic by another enthusiast.
The real deal though, is that the past few weeks have seen an investment of effort in, not science, but poetry (although between us, is there any difference?). And lo, just this week I came back from the International World Championship Poetry Slam in Paris.

To put it nicely, Poetry Slam is a spoken word combination of poetry, rap, and doom prophecy. Admittedly, my style is pretty much none of the three, but I still enjoy doing it, and have been performing in Israel for about a year. There are many, both here and abroad, who, with just a few words and tone of voice, can wreck you to tears and collapse your stomach in anguish; fill you with laughter; or light an otherwise gloomy day. I do not consider myself to be of that caliber, but last December I happened to (against 1/3 odds) win the National competition (with this amusing poem as a starter), and before I knew it was sortied off to France in order to pit my skills against the champions of the world.

With high probability, Paris is a really wonderful city. The rain was refreshing. The Love-Locked bridge collapsed. The cheese has fungi. The pollution is persistent. And to top it all off, the Mona Lisa winked at me (she never returned my calls though).
But really, the competition itself was great. The people were awesome (really, I was in awe); the crowds were supportive; but most importantly, the poetry was crushing (lmytfy). Finnish is like music to my ears.
All in all, I reached the finals and then placed 6th. But what can you expect from a mathematics major, really?

Here are some good English ones (not from Paris), to get you started (one for every season):

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