WYSIWYG or IS NOT

by Richard Tornello

Up in the sky, upon the ground
the claws of Saint Nic
deep in the minds of children found.

Giving gifts of toys despite
all we read 'bout the speed of light.
So how can he belong to all
and amongst all a delight?

To the masses here while to the masses there
doth he jets in his underwear?
No, me thinks this and me thinks that
tis 'bout say, a quantum bit more;
some thing we have yet to set store

in our compendium… pray stay,
of learn-ed truth,
superposition is, for sooth.
All these places and all these times
initiated, a blink,
and… gone.

Be still and consider anon:
No speed measured, no sled seen.
Where none can see and none can guess
just how fast St. Nic is.
So by laws of science he can
be,

in all places one, two, three.
A simple answer yet complex
Quantum superposition is
my best guess.