The tightrope artist is string theory. It could go either way, That’s what makes it a fact. ~ Even metaphysics gets shin splints. But infinity can never touch its toes. ~ In bed, I move the Curtain with my foot. The cat is on the porch roof, through A tear in the screen. Suddenly reality Surpasses my sense Of being. Blood samples were taken. The sun drank something of the moon. ~ And though it seams, It blisters with gold.