(70) May 4, 2010: The Cursor's Touch

THE CURSOR’S TOUCH

If I traverse the strange canals of Mars,
Or dive the Marianna Trench—online;
If with my cursor I finesse the stars,
Imagineering nerve to joule to dyne
In ways fantastical to Newton’s mind,
Unproved by academics in their chairs,
Who say what can and can’t be thus combined,
Should I defer, descend to splitting hairs?

Or should I just admit that I don’t know
The whys and wherefores of this orphic art,
Concede my grasp statistically below
Their knowledge of the periodic chart,
And wave them off like a unified field of gnats,
Back to their boxes of Schrodinger Cats?

D. Edgar Lamp

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Shakespearean Sonnet