That in This Occurrence

That in This Occurrence


Zero-sum, Jerry says. Binary:

zero–one, I retort.

He bets the farm: all the livestock,

the colts, the half-blind gander—

And a pyramid

to carry it in? I ask.

All these things assignable

in this certain occurrence

mean nothing

if I am right.

What can he put up: a soul

for a soul, I say,

but he can do nothing with that

in this occurrence.

Then we decimalize, we multiply:

one: point-five: point zero-zero-one:

one to infinity. In any direction

we head, we find a highway

with a revolving off-ramp:

an elevator always stopping

though never stopping

on the same floor.

In so much possibility,

how do we ever meet?

And what shall I call us

in our next occurrence?

How can I paint the “us”

in our next occurrence

with words from our last?

Our food arrives      

before we can resolve the matter.

We settle for now

for the here and now,

for coffee, eggs, a slice of joy.

What are you looking for?