The quotient asked the secant:

- Can I be your lover?

She immediately replied:

- Never! I already have a love,

- It's the denominator suit…

Soon, then, he felt a rest.

It was no longer an integer…

Then the tangent passed by,

That was going to infinity

To meet who knows who.

He asked pained:

- Where can I find the parallels?

She then answered:

- Maybe never.

Then came the least infinite sphere.

Beautiful and radiant, she soon forgot the secant.

Calculated your dummy,

But if you found it too small for so much volume…

The quotient was sad,

Turned into a complex number

And in a univocal relationship,

Left for oblivion,

Becoming an obtuse angle.

*André M. Hemerly*