For All The Marbles (for the Captain)

Perfect contractual checkroom number

“Next!” 

was heard to be said over loudspeaker 

in the plaza overlooked by Lord Nelson.

“You can’t make this stuff up!”

somewhere preserved on dime store tape

recordings of whale song Indian chants

ululations faint forgotten echos who knows.

Akashic telemarketers continue nonetheless.

It all makes sense until it doesn’t and Vice 

Versa the rest is yet to come who’s ready?

The fumigator is on an automatic timer.

Pest pestilence perpetual especially human

say the intolerant over achievers if they’d

just be not where I can see them …

this is your life remember simple math 

is comfortable given quantum chaos but fear

is, as Dune knows, the mind killer so be 

careful what you ingest into body mind you

never know where the next revelation is 

coming from which is why our eyes open 

at all ever if only we would be willing to see.

Words have no meaning until the mind reads

like seeing shooting stars in that vast space.