If we had flawless crystal balls
there’d be no misery making decisions.
But the best in augury cracks, leaving us,
(if observation of daily news
is any oracle,) merely wagers,
amusements, for our gods.
They can’t predict with greater
certainty than you or I
what random, free willed zig
we’ll zag, or bluff we’ll bluff.
So I amuse myself imagining
a pantheon with wads of dollar bills
in their immortal fists
shouting, “Buy that Chevy!”
Or “Kiss her! Kiss her!”
Or “Pull the trigger, damn it! I’m down a hundred!”
While here on solid ground we stand
in befuddled agony,
every card we pull
leaving us more bewildered,
praying to those who seemingly only know
that they have double or nothing riding on, “Do it!”