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by Nancy Wilcox
Big Tim is a quantum mechanic,
he works in that new shop downtown.
You dont have to stall, go on, give him a call
if your universe ever breaks down.
His gravitys well and housebroken,
no messing with rubbery sheets.
His fusions red hot -- theres a fresh coffee pot;
sit down, take a load off your feet.
Has your leaky old pi started knocking?
His work has a full guarantee.
Are you lost in despair, broke your new MC square?
In no time, it will be up to speed.
Has your chaos been put on back-order?
Has your future worn out all its shocks?
When space gets too hype, and reality bites,
Big Tim has the muzzle in stock.
Poem © 2003 by Nancy Wilcox firstname.lastname@example.org
Illustration © 2003 by Robert Castillo email@example.com
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