Bagatelle

You pop a penny in the slot

Propel the silver ball with

Springheeled velocity

You may pretend there is

Judgement or ingenuity

But really, it’s just pure jam

Most times, the ball

Pings from pin to pin

A working illustration

Of chaos theory

And more often than not

You find yourself

Down the loser’s lane

And the crowd sighs

On the odd occasion

The universe winks

The planets align

The constellations dance

And the silver ball

Bobs and weaves and

Lands slap bang in the

Winners enclosure

And the crowd

Predictably

Goes wild