I didn't use to believe in luck,
I even thought myself perpetually
unlucky
but now I see
that the universe has done me a
kindness by having us meet
I only hope that
their generosity would continue
to help me in my endeavor.

And if it doesn't,
then I will scour the ground
for every four-leaf clover
I will race to the bottom of every rainbow
for its *** of gold.
I will do everything I can
to stay lucky
so I might be able to keep you.

I worry that, without my luck,
I will not deserve you
or that the universe is using you
as a way to prove to me
I am not worthy
of all that I seek.

Since I have the time.
I will write a poem that rhymes
There was a duck
Who had a lot of luck
He found a *** of gold
And lived to be very old
Only one thing made him totter
He had a great fear of the water

A strong name for a
majestic sort of goddess
that I had the luck of meeting.
She sang her song-
one of which
captured my heart
and one of which
we can both
rejoice.

Cast to the river's depth
Punctured on prevalent pieces
Stone and flesh come to one
Commander has fallen
Leader’s reign comes to an end
Not by human hand
By chance
Roll fate’s dice
Taking up the mantle
Emotions soon dismantled
Feel like an imposter
Invading a title I never deserved
Everyone’s got their doubts
There are many routes
Down to the grave
Avoiding grief at all costs
Last time I led
Looked for bodies not men
Time taught me
Chance is the way of life
Brace the spirits of the men
Recognize the wishes of the women
“Welcome to paradise”
Who’s paradise is this?
Not one I pursue
Slung around wrists
Cold metal I was raised in
Leading brought me trouble
Now I end where I began
On the wrong side of life
Corrupted mind
Purified heart
It’s all I can muster
Fresh out of luster

Living in a world of probabilistic irony,
It's the next turn of the card that will define me
And a sense of the cogs, pushing the hands of the clock,
Is what times me.
******* irony..

I walk through the park every day.
Sometimes I squeeze through the crowd and toss a coin into the fountain, longing vibrating through every molecule of my body.
I’ve done it maybe twenty times now. I wish for the same thing each time.
(I can’t say what it is, though— then it won’t come true. And I really need it to.)

Amid a cluster of intermingling people, I stand almost-alone;
Me and my coin and my one wish.

I wonder, sometimes, how much it matters.
If I’m just deluding myself and tossing  
pennies nickels dimes quarters
Into the water, emptying my wallet splash after splash in naive pursuit of something I know I will never have.

Small children join me in tossing nuggets of wishful thinking, their parents laughing at the naivete of it all.
I imagine a world where I don’t rely on a coin to shift my luck.

I wonder if I know somewhere beneath this self-deception that it doesn’t matter.
That no matter how many pennies I toss,
No matter how many stars I wish on,
No matter how many dandelions I blow into the wind, eyes squeezed tight with desperate desire,
Sometimes wishes just don’t come true.

But I know I’ll toss another coin in tomorrow. I don’t have to wonder about that.

Separation-

Exclamation.

Exasperation-

and then silence-

for all the years
when you were speaking to me
have found the words

silent-

and as the feet
slide side by side,

the heartbeat
is deafly quiet-



a treasure is lost

a foundation is cracked

the stone i leaned upon has swayed-


my only wish,
if i could have it,
would be that you could’ve stayed-


that maybe grace and understanding could keep you
instead of sending you away.