Wisdom is not to be found on a screen in the penny
arcade nor in the hard knocks of a pin-
ball machine no matter how light-and-sound
assisted, bong-bong, nor in electronic zap-
-the-bogeyman-or-monster games. Rather
in the lightweight but unwieldy priority package
posted to my own self be true (return
address, Hon. Polonius, Hamletville)
delivered by the UPS (Unconscious Postal
Service)? So I can sum up Life as a game
of … dare I say it as I drive
recklessly, veering away from cliché at the last
second, only to crash into The Tree
God forbade—instigating a mass apple-
fall but begetting no theory of attraction—
at a mere 5 miles an hour, then walking away
from this destructive harvest somewhat wobbly
pondering the microbiota jostling
in my very own body and the vast empty
spaces, I’m told, between the nucleus
of any atom and its circling electrons …
Life is … your honor, as experts will testify,
the specialists in wisdom, poets and sages,
not omitting the clergy, of course, of course,
of which I am one, a universalist,
believing in everything and everything else,
as well as a dazzling lawyer, assigned to defend
pro bono, my client Job, though I understand
he recants and won’t be bringing the slightest complaint
so I myself will be suing God in this case.
