It’s a number in a scale
A quotient without units or dimensions
A reward for answering a few questions
On a piece of paper
A venerated test that few people take
After all if your number is on the lower half
You feel like a bottom-dweller
A scavenger fish, a debris feeder
Still people queue up
Especially the mathematicians
And the physicists – some are pure geniuses
And some merely mad men –
Some can untie knots of algebra
On the black board and some
Hide beneath stellar theories
But in this day and age – unlike in Syracuse
Naked men don’t run amok
After jumping on to a bath tub
To show the size of their brain
Only geniuses with knotty grey and white matter
Fall head over heels, saturated in one feeling
After all, no numerical label of your brain
Can ever stop a foolish heart
From a dizzy arrhythmia, even shattering to pieces
After all even Einstein the egg-head
Was merely Humpty-Dumpty
Falling in love.

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