Serving With Schrodinger's Cat

I've been both not working on the other poem that came out of Love and War and stuck on what I have been working on. Sitting down and writing has to be the last step for me; I have to figure out a lot of things in my head before I can even get a version on paper and then i have to work and rework it on paper as well. I've become determined i am going to take a sabbatical and just go write somewhere and try to have a regimented writing program- sit down at the same time every day and write. Mostly i am interested in seeing whether this will work for me. So much of what I write gets processed in my head for so long, I am curious whether the "same time everyday" approach that so many people advocate will make me a better writer, worse writer, or just annoy me.

Anyway, Schrodinger's cat- this poem started life about a soldier who had to give DNA to see whether a body found on a military academy was his relative. I then wanted to have a poem from the dead soldier and a poem from the dead soldier's slave. Now I have completely cut out the lost relative and am focusing on the sniper pair and the multiplicity and uncertainty at the heart of the cat exercise. Below is the only part I have that i like right now-

Serving With Schrodinger's Cat

Johnson understood
what Parham meant
when he talked
about Schrodinger's cat.

It was the third day
of sniper duty.
Until they were retrieved
three days from now,
Parham would talk and talk.

Stick a cat in a box with an unstable WMD.
You can't see in the box.
Until you lift the top to check
that fucker is both alive and dead.

No one existed until they appeared in the scope.
When he gave Parham the order to shoot
he saw a target living and dying at once.

I have another verse I am working on about MRE's and how they contain all possible extras until opened. I'm not sure if it's stupid, if it belabors the point, or whether it works nicely. Back in the head until I decide.