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Big Bang Theory

by Mark Renz

Every morning when I close my front door
and walk past my wife's blue mini-coop
to get into my truck
my whole Universe erupts
in a million tiny droplets of dew

“It's the Big Bang!” I whisper
The beginning is near!”, I shout,
loud enough to compensate
for the times I've had to tolerate
“The end is coming!”
by those more divinely connected

And every morning I stop
to watch as a single tiny droplet --
caught in the same gravitational pull
that makes my stomach sag after a
few too many Coronas the night before –
races down the well-waxed slope
of the Coop,
colliding with another droplet
and another
and another,

until it's no longer a tiny individual drop
It has now joined other tiny drops and
is a big blue blob gathering speed
and picking up more passengers
and more speed

My rapidly expanding Universe
will splash onto the ground
about five minutes after I leave the driveway
adding a bit of fresh water to grass I hate to mow

and then tomorrow morning
my universe will explode again
there's no dew
or my sweet practical wife
throws the elastic car cover
over my Universe to protect the paint...


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