(Speculations on Anti-Matter)

There's a "Not-me" and a "Not-you" too,
The scientists explain,
Standing right here in our shoes,
But on a different plane.

It sort of puts identity
And privacy in doubt.
I wonder if he sees me
When the lights go out.

If he's Not-me, then who am I?
Cuz I'm not him, you see.
I guess that's it! I'm "Not-him,"
While he's not being me.

This resonating relative
They say is necessary
To keep my bosons buoyant
And all my mesons merry.

Matching my every atom
With one that's less than zero,
In the drama of my life,
He's the anti-hero.

When I laugh, he doesn't.
He doesn't sneeze or cough.
He's Not-me to the muon,
But his muon... is off.

I'm some place. Is he some place too?
Some place I cannot see?
No! They say he's nowhere,
Nowhere being "Not-me."

You've heard of Flatlands, I suppose.
Well, Not-me's even flatter.
He's anti-stuff, not stuff at all.
He simply doesn't matter.

I thank the Great Creator for
My anti-matter twin.
Without Not-me not here, you see,
I couldn't be Not-him.

I'd like to see Not-me one day.
I'd hug him on the spot.
Dangerous, they say, but simpler...
For then we'd both be...NOT!