Ode to Frequency

joseph fourier
There it goes
The ugly time domain;
Filled with spikes
And mundane curves
That look like shards on a dusty floor;
That come from a china,
That from a mistress in France –
Clumsy and distressed.
He looks so polluted,
The Mr. Time Domain.

His look so polluted,
Vexes Mr. Fourier,
As he sips on his coffee
Recollecting the pictures on the wall
And how badly he had startled
Hearing the strident cry of help,
As the china touched the floor,
Full of spikes and mundane curves
Crying to be smoothened,
Crying to be transformed,
Into the frequency domain.