“Occasionally, when I leave the top of my fish tank open, I find a dried fish on the floor. I had never contemplated the depth of disappointment. Shattered dream!! My oh my, this dream has led this gold fish to her land of mammon. Oh my gosh, can it be that Goldiva is a pseudo salmon.”
Drying fish spread o’er the floor, ghastly horror, feeds my furor.
Erase this sight, try as I might, hopelessly haunted ever more.
– Jack Holm
Goldiva’s Flying Dream #2– Clarence Holm While my brother contemplates an end most horrific
With science I speculate a tale more specific.
While fishes can jump, still it seems we pre-propose
The reality of worlds beyond sensory control
Can exist multiple universes where copies repose
Each with an existence, replete with a role. If Hugh Everett did dream of a life without end
Where outcomes are varied and made of negative matter
If physics is quantum who dares comprehend
In the end Jack discovered his goldfish considerably flatter.