Trapped in Newtonian logic, <br />I was lost in a sea of rationale. <br />Blinded in encompassing physique, <br />Entranced in jesting femme fatale. <br /> <br />With unbending scientific step, <br />I test the solid state standard <br />As she tests my misstep, <br />Hopeless romanticism surrendered. <br /> <br />In technical jargonic babble, <br />I explain away my ability to love. <br />With a soft smile, seductive dabble, <br />She breaks the analytic latex glove. <br /> <br />Steady hands, lab proficient, <br />Align the reasoned pieces’ fold. <br />With luscious lip moment <br />Dreamt, my hands shake cold. <br /> <br />Her soft alluring eyes gravitate <br />My every thought closer to the infinite. <br />Lost in her eyes, I can fully relate <br />With iron’s attraction to the magnet. <br /> <br />As I derived Jester’s true intention, <br />I had no desire to break orbit, <br />To leave my satellite position <br />And forfeit my illy flawed gambit. <br /> <br />Drawn to an engulfing black whole, <br />Like light itself, I was incapable of escaping her. <br />Aware of the destination of this wormhole, <br />I would, again, live in the Age of Jester.<br /><br />Robert L. Bixler III<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/age-of-jester/
