Quantum Mechanics of Modern Pregnancy

When the black box is a womb
and pet food comes
in the form of spermatozoa,
every month finds me
sitting in the bathroom,
rectangular questionnaire in hand.

Schrodinger only had
veterinarians who attested
to feline life span and health.
Not a mother who phoned in
twice a week to check
on water bowls she thinks
I have to change before bedtime.
Or a father-in-law
who gave hinted lessons
on how to stroke fur correctly.

Not even distant relatives
who offered him cat toys
stacked in cobwebbed attics.

Still in the end
I heard that Schrodinger wished
he had never met the cat.
On my right palm, the single pink line
of the pregnancy test kit diminishes
the possibilities of my ever
meeting one in nine months.

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