“Are We Just Somebody’s Game of SIMS”

Big-headed scientists put their PhDs to work on a theory

our universe (what we think of as the universe)

is a hologram projected through a hole from some other-

verse, elsewise. Different scientists, I read today,

have come up with a method to test this using telescopes,

like when many sought proof of Einstein’s relativity

by photographing star positions during an eclipse.

How it would wreck our notions of the real,

erasing memories of childhood beltings

or that first date in a darkened theater watching

Robin Williams—these data points on a computer chip

vaster than god concepts, in turn run by the Greater-

Still. They toy with us, these post-divinities,

uber-alien & handy with programming,

tyrannical directors moving us like props in their empty film.

At least in our ignorance we keep ordering pizza,

smacking our bodies together like wet sheets

on occasional Saturday nights, calling our friends

for conversations we consider meaningful,

all of which we’d want to cease,

although like passengers on the wrong train,

we couldn’t change direction even then.