Weirdness



We watch a show about coronal mass ejections,
huge bursts of magnetic fields and solar wind

that, if large enough, could bring our civilization
to its end. The next day I go out and buy a new shirt

and at night I curl around you as we slip warmly
into sleep. We are made mostly of space, everything

is. Subatomic particles spin fast enough to give
the illusion of solidity. My feet don’t fall through

the floor, you can’t reach your hand into my chest, our
molecules are bound together by the electromagnetic force.

We live day to day in the shadow of disaster, two naked
apes enmeshed in the quantum weirdness of our little lives.

Steve Klepetar

If you have any comments on this poem, Steve Klepetar would be pleased to hear from you.