Hats Past

I admit to at most two reversals.
Maybe a good time was had by all or
maybe a bad time was had by none.
How hyperbolic this paraboloid,
ow cognitively dissonant this isometric exercise,
how zero-sum the game we call it's-just-a-game.

With you, my good Samaritan,
I do collude, do too.
From nowhere or by time machine,
I'm asking for black coffee.
There are more ventriloquists than dummies or
I'm either positively charged or
randomly selected from a hat.

Some are concentrated, some disperse,
then I have gravity to recognize,
reorganize and disagree with
and another step to catch another fall.
What Moritake meant is that
the cataclysm returns to its equilibrium
a catalyst with wings. Like fear. Like hope.

Who told those eyelashes to bat?
There was no balcony here yesterday,
there may not be one here tomorrow.
Oh give me an empty room
to which to read my speech.
The Mongol Hordes are not just naked
but bereft of flesh. Eureka, I've found fault.

The author is Heikki Huotari.
Image by Marc Pascual from Pixabay