Demons

And where has entropy been
Today, where are its footprints,
Things smashed wherever it’s stepped,

Small towns blown to bits by bombs,
The dead doe and the wrecked car
In a smear of the doe’s blood,

The crumbs of the old man’s scone
Left strewn on the unswept floor,
The fresh volcano crater—

Entropy goes anywhere
It wants, which is everywhere,
But it allows for demons

Spinning ruins into gold,
Crushed protein chains into life
In its wake. The demons serve

Entropy in the long run
Anyway, being a way
To absorb and dissipate

The great flows of energy
Out of the solar furnace,
Fine waterfalls, after all,

Thermodynamic cascades,
And it’s fun to watch them work,
Repairing damages done,

Signing their accomplishments
With pallid cicatrices
And odd-angled retrofits.

Who knows where demons come from,
Why entropy works this way,
Filigreeing its own mulch?

Entropy itself stomps on
In those hobnailed, seven-league
Boots, crushing all worlds to pulp.