Robert L. Dean, Jr.
Robert L. Dean, Jr. is the author of Pulp (Finishing Line Press, 2022); The Aerialist Will not be Performing: ekphrastic poems and short fictions to the art of Steven Schroeder (Turning Plow Press, 2020); and At the Lake with Heisenberg (Spartan Press, 2018). A multiple Pushcart and Best of the Net nominee, his work has appeared in many literary journals. Dean has been a professional musician and worked at The Dallas Morning News. He is a member of The Writers Place. He lives in Augusta, Kansas, midway between the Flint Hills and the Air Capital of the World.
Snake Eyes
Fate doesn’t knock. Doesn’t stay for tea.
Doesn’t slip in through the back door
like a thief in the night. No Kris Kringle
down the chimney bearing gifts.
The only way we know Fate’s been here
is when we try to swim its wake.
No crones portioning thread.
No lilies of the field who spin not,
though toil, we do. Outrageous fortune,
yes, sea of troubles, yes. Opposing
end them? Not a bare bodkin in sight.
The Bard misread the Oracle.
The bones never roll.
Einstein’s God does not play dice.
But Einstein’s God is Spinoza’s,
substance existing
because substance exists.
Is this, then, the undiscovered country?
If so, why do we constantly
land on its shores, our flag already planted?
Chance craps out.
The seas of misfortune
are fortune’s progeny. Still,
here you are, fingers drumming
the midnight table, and here am I,
awaiting the kettle’s whistle.
One lump, or two?
