Visiting Sarah
Note: This is true, more or less, to n almost-accurate definition of truth. There was quantum chocolate birthday cake, and we did have a picnic in Sarah's room because it was raining, and the sink is the best place to put the wet umbrellas, although Sarah didn't actually have hers with her. The other main difference from reality that I can think of is that Will-who-does-English was also there, although he isn't present in this poem. I like my licence.
Sarah is studying Physics at Oxford; this poem was written in my bedroom very early on Tuesday morning, when I had returned home.
We enter, dump umbrellas in the sink,
kick off our socks and shoes and have a picnic -
inside, where it’s warm and comfortable and
dry, because we’re sensible like that.
There is a round green tin, inside of which should be
a slice of birthday cake made out of quantum
chocolate: it may or may not still be there;
it is impossible to know. Physics
and philosophy combine, and when we
take the lid off and observe it, it exists.
We sit and eat it with our fingers, soft
and moist, and collapsed wave functions
never tasted quite as good
as this.
Sarah is studying Physics at Oxford; this poem was written in my bedroom very early on Tuesday morning, when I had returned home.
We enter, dump umbrellas in the sink,
kick off our socks and shoes and have a picnic -
inside, where it’s warm and comfortable and
dry, because we’re sensible like that.
There is a round green tin, inside of which should be
a slice of birthday cake made out of quantum
chocolate: it may or may not still be there;
it is impossible to know. Physics
and philosophy combine, and when we
take the lid off and observe it, it exists.
We sit and eat it with our fingers, soft
and moist, and collapsed wave functions
never tasted quite as good
as this.