A Proton’s Fate at the LHC
I gallop like billy-o down a long hall,
colossal and shaped like a ring,
though my body is so inconceivably small,
I am almost not even a “thing.”
With each revolution, I’m ever more zippy
till, nearly as speedy as light,
I boogie like nobody’s business — Yippee! —
feeling as light as a mite.
But what’s that in front of me coming head-on?
A proton? It looks just like me.
It is zipping as fast as I’m zipping. We’re drawn
toward each other. How could I foresee
such misfortune? I can’t seem to dodge him. Collision!
We shatter, and parts of us spatter
in sizes and forms I could scarcely envision,
and that is the end of the matter.