Saturday, October 5, 2024

poem

 Schrödinger's Cat

We’re all Schrödinger's cat

Waiting in the dark box 

Prisoners of our own fate,

Hoping to be seen,

To know once and for all

If we’re still alive or dead.

It’s not to be taken literally!

The point is about probability!

Say the last holy men on earth.

I say, what about the cat

While it’s waiting,

Does that count as living?

What about the box?

Can it be used again

Once it’s been filled with rot?

Who or what goes in the box next?

What about the guy who checks?

Who’s watching him

When he lifts the lid?


10/5/24

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