I invoke the gods of randomness:
a pile of blue, red, and yellow
rubberbands; a small magnet
that wants to stick
to everything; patience;
blue ink on fingers; a bag
of regular flavor beef jerky;
a clock three minutes too slow;
the hum of electricity;
the silence and blackness
of when it suddenly ceases;
long rows of chairs vacant
for a lecture of air molecules;
a humanoid made of felt
with arms akimbo
and dressed in clouds
and the late morning sun;
newspapers careening
on the tabletop; a small garden
designed by mimosa;
a garden bench occupied
by a witness; a photograph
of a line
of red tip matches
ablaze.