As the world falls down
Coulomb's law cannot save you.
Your numbers have left; they cannot function
in this new habitat.
You are not suited to this alien environment,
and all the knowledge you have absorbed
as a sponge, a soggy doormat,
is of no use or vitality.
I find you,
a fish out of water
trying to learn how to breathe,
in air without oxygen
I contemplate leaving you
flopping,
as you have always left me,
whisked away by your own
brains and business,
but instead I take you into my
hands, and drop you
in a bubble of a pool,
to swim between lilies of rehabilitation.
When you learn to breathe again,
perhaps you will see that
some things have not been ensnared
by science,
and we can try to coexist together.