GOT NOTHING ON THIS SCENE

GOT NOTHING ON THIS SCENE

strangelets
in my cornflakes

zombie Emily Dickinson
reciting her poem
about the snake
and her poem
about death

now you tell me
there is a black hole
at the centre
of Wonderland (all
that you deemed
absurd comedy in
fact
   supreme gravity)

and Professor Cox
of my alma mater
there in Manchester
speculating on
the terror
   of false vacuum
and the possibility of
absolute zero
   on the surface of
licorice ice-cream

but
   where are they now
who decades ago
tried
    to save our everydays
dish out reassurance

that of classical and quantum
the twain should
never
    meet

and other nonsense all
that stuff that is field, that
is pure
   probability

simply laughing
    tunneling through us

as if
    we are the nothing
pure probability following
their lead
                    heading
in
  and out of fashion
joke on us
     imagining ourselves
solid as we seem

got
nothing on this scene