The Seaside Arcade

I spend my days in a seaside arcade
Clutching a brass token,
Its face worn smooth as sea glass.

The warped floor creaks underfoot.
Ozone permeates the air.
Dust drifts weightlessly through a shaft of yellow sunlight.

Squawking like electric birds,
A cadre of pinball machines beckons.
Eight Ball, Mata Hari, El Dorado, Secret Agent, all tempt me.

I drop a coin into the slot.
Eight Ball blinks once, rouses itself, and readies for play.
Drawing the plunger back I let fly, hurling the steel ball up the chute,
Setting the physics of the game into motion.

“Force equals mass times acceleration.”

With flippers like crab’s claws I drive the ball back up
Past sink holes, and rubber bumpers, again and again.

“An object in motion tends to stay in motion
Unless acted upon by an outside force.”

The clanging and flashing, the garish colors distract me.
The ball leaps convulsively, ricocheting from post to ring, from ring to post.

“For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.”

I shake and nudge the table trying to avoid the traps and dead-zones.
It’s a delicate dance.

A distant voice whispers, “Focus, finesse, control!”
I hear the words, but my pulse, is ringing in my ears
Like horse’s hooves

An overzealous hip thrust or a reckless bump,
And with a pathetic moan, Eight Ball will go dark.

I pause the game, back away, turn and walk outside.

Past the faded carousel, beyond the sand,
The green waves dash themselves against the shore.
The air is filled with the frothy scent of salt.

As dusk begins to settle, a light fog meanders toward the beach
Damping the cries of the gulls, the last birds of the day.

In the distance a boy stands holding a conch to his ear.
Seeing me he waves and shouts.
“You can hear it. You can hear the ocean in the shell!”
He holds the conch aloft, face full of expectation.

I smile, shake my head, turn away.

The sand crunches beneath my feet as I return to the glowing arcade.
Once inside, I take my place again.
I test the flippers,
Take a breath,
Let the last ball fly.

“An object at rest tends to stay at rest
Unless acted upon by an outside force.”