Perimetric and Algorithmic Complexities of Freebit Qubits Glowing on a Skeuomorphic Sheet of White Paper

Show off. There’s too much information
In regret. If a poem had free will
It could only be because free will

Went all the way down to the freebits
Of Knightian qubits at the base
Of everything always happening,

And if that poem appeared as black shapes
Outlined on a brightly glowing screen,
Those shapes would exhibit typical

Levels of complexity you see
In the characters of written scripts,
Which would then themselves have to be free

Down to their core, however constrained
As historical writing systems.
Ta-Da! Free will exists in the poem,

Or it could, or it might, or it can
At least claim that it could, based on scripts
Making those claims in other genres.

But this is a surly poem. It popped
In consequence of too much reading
Through too many similar dreamings,

And you know what surly poems are like,
Little knots of gas in the waves, bursts
Of nothing much out of nothing much,

When the only question worth asking
In a world of so much nothing much,
Pace Parmenides, is nothing.