FLOTSAM AND BOXES
in pinball caroms
from place to place
event to event
our frustrations
grow from no control
no clear direction
no way to know
how we'll be hit
we have no plans
just movement through
a plane of uncertainty
we grasp the handles
of what we can
trying to make do
with flotsam for a yacht
or boxes for a castle
transitional states
come unexpected
we are never ready
no means to prepare
for rabbit-hole transferrals
from what had been
and into zones
of maelstrom confusion
voices cross dimensions
to pass along advice;
how can we heed them?
so deeply into trenches
cut out by rote
there seems no hope
of altering the swing
of these pendulums
"if only" rings again,
but we have so much lack
that nothing posits growth;
more likely loss will cripple
what we still may have
than any good arrive here
to open up new ways
or free us from this cage
- Brendan Tripp
07/02/2002
Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp
