Tuesday, December 8, 2015

WYSIWYG or IS NOT Or My E-holiday Card to Friends

Up in the sky, upon the ground

the claws of Saint Nic

deep in the minds of children found.

Giving gifts of toys despite

all we read 'bout the speed of light.

So how can he belong to all

and amongst all a delight?

To the masses here while to the masses there

doth he jets in his underwear?

No, me thinks this and me thinks that

tis 'bout say, a quantum bit more;

some thing we have yet to set store

in our compendium… pray stay,

of learn-ed truth,

superposition is, for sooth.

All these places and all these times

initiated, a blink,

and… gone.

Be still and consider anon:

No speed measured, no sled seen.

Where none can see and none can guess

just how fast St. Nic is.

So by laws of science he can


in all places one, two, three.

A simple answer yet complex

Quantum superposition is

my best guess.

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