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In Schrödinger’s Bedchamber nothing will
happen; nothing will happen and any
thing goes. Barred holds are free to break any
resistance; conquered love’s all for the thrill
to chase down. Draw back the curtain and grill
the contestants; open the hatch and see
what your sight spawns. Blind lovers wave the sea
in through the window. Disparate schools fill
the days with hot air. Particles plug a
fine crack in the ceiling. Dust powders down
with ineffable grace. Doubt-stalking cats
make the sugar-mice whimper, and bugger
the bastards whose certainty fails. Don’t clown
around in this serious circus. Hats
copyright 2014
Dave
Houston |
