FIELD
it is not
my baby
this multiverse of
fluctuating quantum fields
I was fine with Lego
with all those
Pink Floyd
bricks in the wall
was fine
with looking at my arm
flesh and bone
before my mind dissolved it
and you and me
was what we were up
to mere ripples in the flow
producing
out of nowhere
ecstatic conjunction?
as I said
this is not
my field
not my baby I lack
the total mathematics
the Platonic wisdom
SOMETIMES
sometimes
I am
just
randomness
Cummings words
jumping all over the
quantum page
as if
twin slit experiment
(the smile of physics gone Gemini
getting our minds pretty
tangled up together
you tell me coyly
inform me
in no uncertain terms)
if it cannot be
real
this everything
if it is lax on locality
could it
be dream?
I asked this of the iconic cat
in the box before it
disappeared
and now I am blessed with
the answer but sworn to secrecy
science
now in uproar
doctoral candidates frayed
fissile
exploding in clouds of
white chalky dust
as if
made of talcum powder
all over Tesla’s headstone
thinking of
the half-life of what
lies
in that grave
Sent from my iPhone
poems 2 die for