Big tops

What are the odds?
one,
ten,
a million
ten billion to one?
and yet we go on with life,
with living,

who’s giving these odds?

We make rods for our backs
throwing wooden balls into
round holes
like a fairground attraction
watching horses move along
predetermined tracks
and we hope to win
a prize.

Eyes on the totaliser
a surprise a minute

if you can prise
a second from the mouth
of a clown
you’ll be lucky.

© 2017, John Smallshaw.