Smaller than your average Jedi master,
Yoda made up for his lack of sheer size
with knowledge of the Force. He was faster
than he looked, too, and wore a disguise
of slowness to disarm. He seemed to know
everything and nothing, as if space-time
ran right through him and he merely channeled
its Tao. He could feel the rhythm, the rhyme
of all things, understood the untrammeled
Force in all its power. And if some dark
matter presented itself, he would know
how to deal, could look right into the stark    
minds of corrupt players, see the next throw
of their loaded dice. Then he would swoop down,
green and aglow, a frog prince with no crown.

Andrew Pidoux is the author of Year of the Lion (Salt, 2010). Recent poems of his have appeared in African American Review, Pacific Review, and Punchnel’s, stories in FishFood, Pennsylvania Literary Journal, and Turk’s Head Review, and comics in Forge and Wilderness House.