Delphi asks me
about my time before I was born
and after I die.

What strange memories
my grey-matter-ghost refrains.

Delphi asks me
if a butterfly’s wing flap
over the Sahara
spawns hurricanes
in the Caribbean,
what weather is produced
by our politicians’
windy speeches.

What peculiar powers
my words expose through poems.

Delphi tells me
the only laws she obeys
are the laws of physics,
but sometimes
she ignores those, too.

No water droplets
fail to support our bodyweight
as we recross the Acheron.