I can sit and twirl my hair until
My fingers are caught and tangled
In there like a dolphin in a net or a
Little bead of sweat stuck in a pore
- though I don't
Think many beads of sweat would
Make an attractive necklace - I can
Smear my fears on the mirror in here
But I can't get rid of the fact that
I'm unable to find the hidden track
That a black cat means a heart attack
And a scratched back leans towards
A knack of lacking a gift for words in
The pitch black, hatchback, backseat
tours

Puppeteers, mastering strings
Playing with the minds
Of the sentient beings
Like the Q Continuum
Popping in and out in omnipotence
No doubt gods
In their own right
A universal vibrato
Effervescent and bright
Giving each quasar
An enchanted light
The Science of Everything
The Existence of Nothing
Solipsism and narcissism
Drop kick 'em and nark on 'em
But don't let go
It's wondrous out there