No r, No r, No r…

Set in the years
After that one war
That was supposed to end them all,
During the start of those roaring years,
And a bit before the greatest economic disaster ever,
An unknown chemist to me,
Is trying to figure out
How to make rubber
Pretty and stable,
Easy and hard,
Practical and profitable.
He scribbles notes in haste and absent-mindedness
Only sure that they exist within his head,
Not for some low rent hack writer
With dreams of investigative skills,
DuPont curiosity, and
Time to kill in that professional limbo
Where brain cells have become so drunk with boredom
That they do not possess enough power
To conduct thought.
Lieban, if that’s your name,
You’re a mystery,
But an accelerator in way
You never expected.
I’m bouncing off the walls.
Boing, Boing, Boing…

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