‘3.3 billion years ago we caught a break . . .’ So states the first line of Christopher Buckley’s new poetry collection Chaos Theory, setting the tone of casual erudition, an atomic fusion of the personal and the cosmic. The book’s theme is a perennial one: Chaos Theory is really about finding the underlying order in apparently random data. True to his word, Buckley gives us “Shimmy Shimmy Ko-Ko Bop” by Little Anthony & The Imperials: - ‘… particles; the cathedral of the atom, and Gunsmoke, The Whistler, Mr. & Mrs. North— / zooming past / the cosmic street lamps,’ bids us make the connections along with him. It’s a startling, deliriously pleasurable enterprise, poem by poem. As we reach the end of our cosmic journey through Chaos Theory, we feel like one of the imagined aliens huddled at last around Voyager’s Golden Records on some distant planet, understanding dawning in her eye or ear, as an x-ray of a human hand and snowflakes over Sequoia appear on a hologram, followed by a recording of the greeting “May all be well” in Ancient Sumerian and the brainwaves of Ann Druyan considering human violence and poverty and falling in love.