Quantum Poetry

Photo by P. Yee, 2008.

Schrödinger’s cat dies and dies again, nine
out of ten when it sends a poem forth,
clammy paws on eyelids closed, in feline
terror of annihilation, rebirth

on the cusp of opening the reply
from an editor, whose words tease and charm,
slinging the cat up and down, top and high,
bottoming with a blessing that’s no balm:

the best of luck finding a life elsewhere
that better fits the kitty and poetry.
And so onward! Submitting to despair,
to fear and joy, to the inequity

of it all; a tiny heart not pretty enough,
not lyrical enough, not stunning enough,
exploding
with each unboxing.