Jokers and knaves are wild cards
As ever they were
What fateful houses these make
Breath-held balancing
Precarious shelters
Gamblers and wanderers
With tumbleweed roots
Clinging air instead of earth
The stuff of fools and stars
And someone's days and years
Are made only of this
This thrilling despair

Jokers and knaves and kings and queens
And some of subtler meaning
Mean nothing but paper
Numbers and trembles
Dry-mouthed mumbles
Prayers to a ruthless god
With no reason to pity fools
And a dark love of sacrifice
Yet still desperate belief
Huddled behind swollen eyes
Contradicts every probable outcome
And falls and spins

                        By Phil Roberts