Playing both sides of the field
Has always been my augur of recompense;
And I can’t be a hypocrite, for there’s far more
Than two sides to me now;
I could never fit into one highly selective college degree
Of one category only; or ride one solitary train of thought
To it’s purposeful destination, without hopping off
For the first crossbound train that happened along,
Simply because I was curious to see where it was going to end up.
Only later on, I realize I will never see the end of the first line;
Never rode anything, to it’s logical conclusion.
But then the light enlarges, as if a light bulb had let out a quantum fart;
Or a dropp of rain hits me square on the third eye,
And I feel the benediction then, on all my random perturbations:
I know I am every bit as unlikely and unpredictable
As any quark, half dead or alive
Clinging onto the ghost of Schrödinger’s Cat.
Schrodinger’s Cat
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