When I was first starting to read poetry, this was one of my favorites and still is. It's a little tick-tocky, but the statement is quite profound. Cunningham wrote a number of dimeter poems, but this is indubitably his best.
Meditation on Stastical Method
Plato, despair!
We prove by norms
How numbers bear
Empiric forms,
How random wrong
Will average right
If time be long
Error slight,
But in our hearts
Hyperbole
Curves and departs
To infinity.
Error is boundless.
Nor hope nor doubt,
Though both be groundless,
Will average out.
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