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i

I have no possessions, only items
often near me. I have no friends,
only shadows in propinquity.
I have no beliefs, only itemized
self-delusion. I have no pastimes,
only tactical distractions—

look around. There are no people
here, only vectors of intent.
Many make no attempt to breach
this room; most can’t even escape
their own gravitational pull.
There are no lovers here, only

addicts. I always find myself
in worlds I’m liable to be found.

ii

Around the star exists a planet,
and on this planet exists a state;
within the state exists a house,
and in this house exists a room;
across the room exists a table,
and on this table exists a star,

and the star is you. The first law
is, you will always nail the part;
the second is, you will never
get the callback. The third is,
there is no such thing as on time,
and everything is on time. If you get

lost, you can always find yourself
in worlds you're liable to be found.

iii

I am the complex quotient
of the dance between magnet
and mass. And you, voyeur-savant,
what brought you sipping at this port?
Surely you know no matter how prolix,
refined, and polite you are, life is

always nasty, brutish, and short.
Don’t be sorry you apologize
so often. I do, too. We’re both
mirrors situated parallel,
and at our vanishing point a ship,
barnacle-callused, unbound.

It’s here we’ll always find ourselves,
in worlds we’re liable to be found.

There are several so-called “anthropic” principles, but they all orbit the concept that our ability to observe the universe has some bearing on the laws that govern it. This ranges from the existence of a privileged locus (namely, ours), to cosmological fine-tuning or even intelligent design. The Anthropic Principle is seductive because, when cleverly applied, it puts us back in center stage, after centuries of obscurity.

© 2008 Stephen Lester