Beware chaos. Humankind has devised prayers to keep chaos from erupting in our lives, and we have rituals — some public, some privateand personal — that might help. But what do we know about chaos that we hope it won’t arrive at our door? And if it did, what kind of car would it arrive in? Marilyn Robertson has wondered about these things in “What Would Chaos Drive?”
Sometimes I think neatness is the charm
to keep bad news away.
A pile of books aligned: no accidents.
Socks folded in a drawer: safe journey.
Afghan laid precisely on the couch:
no one I know will die.
Every straightened picture frame
could signal one less sorrow.
So the chaos I refuse appears in dreams.
“Hey!” it calls, piling its drunken friends
into an old Studebaker.
“There’s room in the back seat.”
Angora dice hang from the rearview mirror.
Comic books and Cheetos line the floor.
None of the windows close.