In your life

There are Times
When you Create

and Times
When you
Allow for Creation...

If the quantum is foaming
Roaming space for a chance to manifest
Lest it neglect to collapse in on itself
Then who am I

To negate the hypothesis
That life is ineffable
Interfering with the pattern
That would have else entangled me
Instead,
I find myself a wave function
Undetermined until interacted with
Insignificant until observed

Who am I to challenge
That everything is energy
Rising through the ranks of probability
A wavelength contracting  
An equation waiting to materialize

Who am I to doubt
That uncertainty is anything less
Than a superposition  
A potential to fill
The vacuum to the brim
With vibrations that extend far beyond the evidence
Fluctuations fulfilling a destiny  
Of singularity
A momentum to make matter matter

night wears a skin
of cold velvet
stippled with pores
through which illumination
prickles as the intergalactic whiskers
of Schrodinger's cat
catching the scent of gravity

Glorious Past
Let's go for a walk let's walk the talk
Of glorious past.
The present is freaking the future is bleak.
A virus is spreading job's are falling apart.
Governments are failing economy slipping.
Health is a thing off the past.
I hope the quantum theory is true
Of seven life's in different planes
Then at least we can assume six of them are better off.

It’s Hard Not To Be Optimistic: An Updated Sonnet to Science
by Michael R. Burch

“DNA has cured deadly diseases and allowed
labs to create animals with fantastic new
features.” ― U.S. News & World Report

It’s hard not to be optimistic
when things are so wondrously futuristic:
when DNA, our new Louie Pasteur,
can effect an autonomous, miraculous cure,
while labs churn out fluorescent monkeys
who, with infinite typewriters, might soon outdo USN&WR’s flunkeys.

It’s hard not to be optimistic
when the world is so delightfully pluralistic:
when Schrödinger’s cat is both dead and alive,
and Hawking says time can run backwards. We thrive,
befuddled drones, on someone else’s regurgitated nectar,
while our cheers drown out poet-alarmists who might Hector

the Achilles heel of pure science (common sense)
and reporters who tap out supersillyous nonsense.

NOTE: I am a fan of both real science and science fiction, and I like to think I can tell the difference, at least between the two extremes. I feel confident that Schrödinger didn’t think the cat in his famous experiment was both dead and alive. Rather, he was pointing out that we can’t know until we open the box, scratchings and smell aside. While traveling backwards in time is great for science fiction, it seems extremely doubtful as a practical application. And as for DNA curing deadly diseases ... well, it must have created them, so perhaps don’t give it too much credit!

Submitted to U.S. News & World Report

Dear Editor,

While I’m usually a fan of your magazine, as a writer I must take to task the Frankensteinian logic of the excerpt I cited, and I challenge you to publish my “letter” as proof that poets do have a function in the third millennium, even if it is only to suggest that paid writers should not create such outlandish, freakish horrors of the English language.

Somewhat irked, but still a fan,
Michael R. Burch

Keywords/Tags: science, fiction, quantum, physics, Hawking, Schrodinger, cat, DNA, infinite, monkeys, typewriters, Shakespeare, lab, animals, new, features

An AI fear ifier, launched on Joe Rogan,

ALARM WOLVES LOOSE EATER ROBOTS ON FLOCK ALARM,

naw, out here, on the border, well,

watch fargo, joe, we have chippers, big chippers and

plenty of retards to run them. We use AI to foment joy juice.

Don't play been there done that with me.

Money, these guys believe, as takers have told them,

no givers have shown them grace
for grace,
you want it, get it, that's the secret,
slow and steady wins the race, to get old
you gotta live this long

that's a song,
you can humm along,
any good deed is tainted by money love lessons
learned under weight of student loans

guaranteed, student for ever  or

if high school was your limit, we got sports, you can watch

and feel a weness in the strength of Sunday Gladiators,

but war is unthinkable here,
on this level of reality, mere words may **** a will,
but not an actual made way,

as in made man in the mafia movies, a way, once made

remains. Siempre phibeta or worse. Life won, that's how this was done.