our cards are shuffled in stratospheres
beyond the pull of gravity’s space/time?  

our hands are dealt by cold-blooded croupiers
who aren’t respecters of persons?  

money has momentum and weight
guarded by suits in sunglasses carrying machineguns?  

angels have phone numbers
but may or may not text back?  

faith requires God have free rein
over both the crayons and the coloring book?  

Poems with question marks are crap                         
                         
                              but
 

were I wooing you, I’d whisper
clever-feathered nothings in your ear  

That’s why Socrates banned poets from the Republic