They called him Robin Hood

(See also: entropy).

Like a bee he moved through the cosmos,

Breaking things down to their key components:

Iron for blood, oxygen for air, carbon for

everything.

 

Sometimes he made the stars combust

And explode in a rain of glitter,

Which he gathered in his quiver--

Glimmering wealth to redistribute

To those in need.

 

As the third law of spirits states,

If two ghosts attempt to kiss

They will repel each other

Like electrons. Stardust helps,

Provided they can get their incorporeal

Hands on it, spread like beeswax

Across their lips.

 

The ghosts, ever impatient, rise up

To the Earth’s stratosphere and await

Their favorite thief’s return.

Robin Hood flies down, quiver emptied

Over hungry ghost mouths,

Stardust melting, spun sugar on the tongue.

 

He drifts back to Earth,

His merry band of spirits dancing

Raucous and wild around him,

Lips locked in their freefall,

Drawn back home

By some insurmountable force

(See also: gravity).