Bad intentions, I have heard, are
Tense and nervous in expansion
Of their silence, which keeps secrets
From the angels in my head.

Irregardless, please believe me.
If you wish to. Pretty, please? Don’t
Ever listen, never said I’d
Bring you visions but of stone.

Territories in our heads, they
Shrink before us, in a way, like
Pools of water, lapping softly
At our ankles, in the snow.

But, hey, listen…Ever hear the
One about the barracuda
Who went swimming with the mullah,
And the rabbi, and the priest?

They all thought they, knew the answer,
So they feared not any water,
And they waded awfully quickly
To the deep end of the pool.

As they sank they wondered, quietly
Filled with dread, in their last instant,
Very quietly, in their minds, if
Maybe they could think again.

Perhaps next life, mused the guru,
Sitting grinning, very comfy,
They’ll be eating, in the way the
Barracuda eats the fool.

At that moment fell the fruit of
Greater wisdom from the tree of
Worldly knowledge to strike firmly
On his head, and made him cry.

From above, he heard quite clearly,
Though he might have just imagined,
Gentle laughter, as he lost what-
Ever sense he may have had.

Up there Newton shared a giggle
With that Bohr, and Charles Darwin
Oh they rigoled like Pagliacci
When he found his love impure.

But they made so much a racket,
That the branch gave way beneath them
And they got to see up close that
Very Earth they knew so well.

Well the sight was awful, pretty,
Though there was no one to see it.
So, in truth, you have to wonder
If there really was a fall.