Anten I and I

I come home exhausted,
from what? I'm not really sure
probably all that hazy yellow afternoon sun
that my skin absorbed from a perfect distance
I kick my mess aside and
throw all the things that aren't agreeing with the
rest of the mess into the next room
and while doing so, find the remote I never knew I had
I watch a science documentary
which attempts to explain physics
to those who to watch television
this episode is called “universe or multiverse?”
and to help understand the theory of a multiverse
the charming, enthusiastic, American host begins with an analogy
“picture a block of cheese!”
and as he continues to talk about what we perceive
as the universe, the computer generated graphic
of the cheese transforms into Swiss cheese.
“now picture SWISS CHEESE, and imagine our
supposed universe as just one of the holes in this cheese”
after he's done talking about cheese, some physicists
are interviewed; they explain the multiverse
using their scientific language and profound mathematics
to validate the hosts point.
But it still sounds like cheese to me.
Interesting and real, but far from my favourite food.
If I could taste once in my life,
it'd tell them to keep their cheese to themselves.
I change the channel
and there is Snoop dogg under a fruit tree in jamaica.
He has his skinny arms up over his head
jumping up and down trying to pick a grapefruit just out of his reach.
when he finally grabs hold of it he tears it open and bites into it
and with juice running down his goatee he looks into the camera
all soft eyed
“this here is paradise baybee!”
it cuts to him that evening, in the studio
recording a song called fruit juice.
he sings about god, peace, love, rastafari and fruit juice
he calls it his reincarnation
and asks to be referred to as Snoop Lion
god I feel like some grapefruit juice
It's after midnight and the shops are closed
so I just wander through the thick darkness
walking the streets taking the turns as they come
I step and I step and I hum, sing and hum
I can sense the signals of people inside their bedrooms
all the flavours of their truths and dreams
seeping out of the windows
I channel into them as I go by
and I don't need a special remote
I just sing their signals as they float