As Above, So Below

Ding, dong,
Bell's theorem;
a stop on the bus;
pussy's well-connected
paws hold fast
her grid
the narcotics in
dad's pipe
explode the baleful sun,
now and then.

Could it be,
caught in the field,
is locked and bolted,
delivered ready-made today?
Unchanged, we strut out the door,
make our schemes while
Einstein's ghost
in patterns
comes and goes,
whispering chaos
come and gone,
like distant thunder.

Leave the gates open:
back and forth
across the field,
like an ox,
the shuttling flux
gives an answer.
No question:
if the mini-maxi bits
of the world
travel fast and alone,
zipping down
unpredestined grooves,
then the bible's right;
all is a watch in the night,
the night gang
watching for the

swing of chance
to show a way,
make a map to somewhere,
accurate as random waves
or the gods' good will.

The dance is dancing;
the spiders and horses
in great and small circles
leave not a trace;
only web and sweat

remain for the flies.




About the Author: Jack D. Harvey’s poetry has appeared in Scrivener, Mind In Motion, Slow Dancer, The Antioch Review, Bay Area Poets’ Coalition, The University of Texas Review, The Beloit Poetry Journal, The Piedmont Journal of Poetry and a number of other on-line and in print poetry magazines over the years, many of which are probably kaput by now, given the high mortality rate of poetry magazines.

Shortly after the Siege of Leningrad, the author was a Pushcart nominee and over the ensuing years has been published in a few anthologies.