I crafted a new set of imaginary numbers; tough times demand new tools.
I call them "u" - a derivative of the indispensable imaginary number "i."
U are prime, natural, whole, and divisible only by one.
Small u are B flat minor; large u are C major.
Young u smell reminiscent of butterscotch, are maroon, leathery.
Mature u have a faint scent of caraway, are chartreuse, squishy.
U are handy. While i allowed solid-state electronics, u can build picnic tables.
U can quantify justice and amortize love.
U can derive wisdom's quadratic mean.
U can calculate the logarithmic properties of revenge, fear, indifference.
Done carefully, u can convert human years to carbon years.
But alas, u are rare as banana seeds.
In the periodic table of numbers, u sit alone near the floor, fleeting.
We need u; we count on u; without u hydrogen bonds would be weak, brittle.
Infinity would be but a half-life.