Late night poetry

As Colin Watson said:

I wrote [my wife] @ghoti a poem about thermodynamics.

People should write poetry more often. Specifically, people who haven’t just got in from the pub, and importantly people who can write poetry which isn’t iambic and rhyming. Still, what the hell.

An ode to the Second Law of Thermodynamics

by Stuart, aged 13¾

Everything tends to disorder
Whether people or systems or heat
“But how,” come the words, “can that help us?”
“Are we all to collapse in a heap?”

No no, I declare: bold decision,
Dismiss all your thoughts about strife
Just think, when a mug hits your floor tiles
You expect it to spring back to life?

You know that the world heads disordered
Some pages won’t e’er become book
And the dishes don’t ever get cleaner
And a pie won’t spontaneously cook

Things collapse: it’s the way of the cosmos
Fall apart, as the old poet said
We wish that they’d all pull together
But for now you can take it as read;

That’s the bastard that’s thermodynamics
It insists that the simple life ain’t
One day shards might leap back into teacups
But ‘til then I’d hold off with complaints

The universe tends to disorder
But I’m not sure that I should ask why
When a wasp gets a newspaper hiding
I bloody well want it to die!