I came across a man who could not find his remote.
Nor could he approach his own TV
in vain he looked under sheets, couches, piles of coats,
in vain! in vain looked he.
I don't trust, he said, the laws of science.
There's many things it will not see
and in refusing to acknowledge blind spots,
no vision can be genuine;
it's all either waves or particles, depending on whom you ask,
and things disappear;
commercials are endured;
as the TV has no knobs to turn,
and the remote is lost, all lost, said he.
As he babbled he was lifting cushions all the while,
and I, so wearious of watching
his futile rummaging, did make to leave
and later in my pocket