A scientist has a test tube full of sheep. He <br />wonders if he should try to shrink a pasture <br />for them. <br /> They are like grains of rice. <br /> He wonders if it is possible to shrink something <br />out of existence. <br /> He wonders if the sheep are aware of their tininess, <br />if they have any sense of scale. Perhaps they think <br />the test tube is a glass barn ... <br /> He wonders what he should do with them; they <br />certainly have less meat and wool than ordinary <br />sheep. Has he reduced their commercial value? <br /> He wonders if they could be used as a substitute <br />for rice, a sort of wolly rice . . . <br /> He wonders if he shouldn't rub them into a red paste <br />between his fingers. <br /> He wonders if they are breeding, or if any of them <br />have died. <br />He puts them under a microscope, and falls asleep <br />counting them . . .<br /><br />Russell Edson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/counting-sheep/
