Heikki Huotari

Science Daily says if I’m an artificial
atom and I hang out near my mirror
then I’ll live ten times as long
so I prioritize my images by wingspan,
size and color in a velvet box. Because
I have no children and have never
been in prison or a foxhole,
I’m still free to disbelieve.
And I have three degrees of freedom.
Nothing rotates quite like pie at night
when I’m invisible in my gorilla mask
and astrally projected and Madonna
and I share an office while we’re young,
moonlighting as adjunct professors.

HEIKKI HUOTARI is a retired professor of mathematics. In a past century, he attended a one-room country school and spent summers on a forest-fire lookout tower. His poems have appeared in several journals, including Poetry Northwest and Crazyhorse. A chapbook is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press.