I Am a Strange Loop

by Douglas R. Hofstadter

(For all who have lost their marbles…) by Jeannel King A box of env’lopes on the floor — I want to shift them to my drawer. I squeeze inside — there’s something there! I look inside — there’s naught but air. I squeeze again and marble find. Is this a marble of my mind?a Determined now, and one by one, out come the env’lopes — still no plum! For closer views of each, I must brave paper cuts and motes of dust. In tips? Or env’lope forty-six?a My marble, whole, does not exist. Then coarse-grained Mother whispers, “Nell, you keep this up, you’ll go to hell!” To which Dad counters, “Mind yer mopes! Let Nell seek God in envelopes!” So envelopes lie all around as I sit, vexed, upon the ground. My marble’s lost, but in my core could there, perhaps, be something more?a For more than parts this whole has grown: No single part doth stand alone. In parts, the marble simply mocks. Intact, I think, I’ll keep this box.