Verschränkung, Explained by Schrödinger's Cat
Luxuriant in death or love,
I'm in my box, my little cat box,
where his hammer takes my life or not
depending on some random thing.
Here am I wave or smear or fog.
Both quick and dead, he says, at once.
For me—for me—my quantum state
blurts basic binary: alive and not.
Inconsequential though I be, that makes it simple
morally. I would so much, much rather be
is my only, fervent thought.
If poor experiment, so what?
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Poet's Choice (Free Verse)