One of the many implications of recent cosmological observations

is that the concept of parallel universes is no mere metaphor.

Space appears to be infinite in size.

-Scientific American

So, there's a sun like ours and a moon like our

and a duplicate Earth with a town like this

and a street like this on a day like this

and there's a man exactly like me--

same wire glasses, same scratched thumb

and dumb job, different shirt--

a man just like me who walk

past a Frank's Corner Deli, u-turns,

walks in and orders a corned beef

on rye, double the mustard, no mayonnaise.

Outside, an equivalent Checker Cab

pulls up and a similar lady in a backward

cap gets out at a similar curb:

squashed Mars Bar, discarded sock, strutting pigeon

and all this under a wide, white sky with a glittering jet

and a crow below.

Of course, likewise, there's a smudged

glass counter and, in her crisp paper cap,

there's a girl whose tiny, terrible teeth also seem

tossed into her mouth like so many dice,

and just as I'm wishing this world's version

better, straighter teeth and love and long life too,

as I'm thinking how God on the Earth we know

seems absent or careless or cruel,

as an almost equivalent, nearly

identical God some place lolls dozing

in His giant cloud lounger, here, today,

three flies resettle on a split plastic spoon,

and as this Earth's girl scoops the last of the tuna

from a stainless tray she looks up and winks once

like we're perfectly grand.