It's cold outside, like the tip of a dog's muzzle
It seems like a good day to stay in and cuddle
It also seems like the wind in the air
Invites the intrepid to run out somewhere
So whether you snuggle indoors or trek outside
Good luck to those at the sun's low winter tide

I have busted my ****, sliding down rainbows
And fell through many pink clouds on my ear.
I always whistle as I pass by graveyards
Threw hundreds in wishing wells, over the years.
I defaulted my rent on castles in the air.
I carefully avoided stepping on any cracks.
I walk endless miles not to walk under ladders.
I carefully avoid walking near any cat if it is black.

I totally buy that I am superstitious
And I wear that distinction like a hair shirt.
But I see problem in not taking chances;
It may not work, but it couldn’t hurt.

I’ve cramps in my fingers from them being crossed.
I would never break any kind of mirror, of course .
And I still have salt sprinkled on my shoulders.
Wishing on many stars, I have made myself hoarse.
I always look away when a funeral goes by.
I spit in my palm when I hear something spooky.
I drop coins into the bowls of all beggars
Even though most of my friends think me kooky.

It’s not like I go broke on soothsayers
And buy all the amulets I see on TV.
But It makes little sense to take a moment
To avoid the omens anyone can see.

Yes I buy copper bracelets to save me
From arthritis or rheumatism of my knee.
I never wear clothing the color of blood,
That only makes common sense to me.
Some think I’m a few boards short of a fence
Be that as it may, and all well and good
My guess is you all have looked around
To find something so you could knock on wood.

I totally buy that I am superstitious
And I wear that distinction like a hair shirt.
But I see problem in not taking chances;
It may not work, but it couldn’t hurt.

Never have I let a black cat get in my way,
Never have I turned a horseshoe upside-down,
And never have I looked at a broken mirror;
But yet it seems like black cats insist on getting in my way,
Horseshoes turn themselves upside-down,
And mirrors break themselves, to give me bad luck.

“Don't sweep the floor at night if you don't want to sweep away the fortune,”
“Don't open an umbrella while you're still inside, if you don't want to attract trouble;”
That's what they all say.
But it seems like no matter what I do,
Good luck and good fortune really want to stay away from me,
And misfortune and disaster really want to chase after me.

Every incident turns into accident.
No, it can't be just a coincidence.
I'm jinxed, vexed, and hexed.
Call me anything you want,
It won't change the fact;
I'm hoodooed, and voodooed, and cursed.

But the fortune teller never told me about
How fate would suddenly be on my side this time.
She read my palm
And looked at her crystal ball,
But all she saw
Was my ill-fated future.

But now the wheel of fortune has finally spun;
The one on the bottom is finally on top.
I guess this is the effect of karma.
Destiny has finally decided
To give me something I need more than anything,
And it's none other than a lucky charm.

This lucky charm cannot be worn like a ring, bracelet, or an amulet;
And cannot be stolen like a gem or a stone.
It's something that I am the only one who possess;
For it is not an object, but a person instead.
He's not a genie, a wizard, or anyone who can grant any wish;
Just an ordinary person, with an extraordinary magic.

Bad luck is my twin;
We're together through thick and thin.
But when I'm with him,
It's as if good luck is also with me.
Because he can make such an unfortunate person
Feel even luckier than a lucky charm.

Hello morning, I have anticipated you since
I awoke to the small barking dog's tailored speak for food.

I want that Eddie should start preparing her own meals. I know that while I smoke this morning's cigarette, that French Bulldog inside contemplates the fifty dollar bag of high-grade kibble she has pushed me to buy her or instead enjoying her own ****. And all of my wives friends call her a lady.

I want to ride alone in our FJ Cruiser through Yellowstone at dawn, before the predators have gone to bed and the tourists make their queues, I want to beat morning until I have found the wolves, and the sun rise mocks me as I sit four hours in traffic for a cup of coffee as I round the shivering peaks of our Rocky Mountain backyard landscape, and the Tetons swell with last nights snow-fall and the warm autumn air sends plumes of frigid mist above the valley floor and into the skies above Jackson.

And I wish I could stand once more on the balcony of the 777 building and smoke the finest sativas with my friend Turtle while our significant others drink coffees and watch reruns of American Gladiators on a $14,000 couch waiting for us to come back inside.

I wish I could wait on the benches outside baggage claim at San Francisco International Airport smoking inside the white lines, waiting for a girl in a red sports car to pick me up and my friend Guy's absurd faces there to greet me amidst the fog and the out of place palm trees Inevwr expected to see so far North.

And it would be great to hear my grandfather play the ukulele once more while I excitedly fished off of my grandparents dock somewhere in New Jersey where my mother's accent insists she grew up. And my grandfather sings horrifically demeaning songs written in 1924 that offer little respect to women, but much adventure to young men.

I want to play tag with the neighborhood children again in the Summer of 1995. Even though I had come to find all of those playing tag had absconded to a game entitled The 'A' Game, which its only rules were to exclude me from joining. I want to throw scalding hot water once more into Simon Berman's face. Though I do not wish for him to block the water with a basketball and turn my face into Jack Nicholson's Joker.

In Chicago as an eighteen year old, I could count the chalk outlines of bodies as I drove down Fullerton Avenue through the Logan Square neighborhood. I wish I could remember those sounds the boricua made. I wish I could forget the burning runs I received from Lazo's burritos at some time 'o clock in the morning.

I've never been one for finding edible late-night eats. I only want the memory of being able to do so. I do wish that my wife's ex-best friend's boyfriend realizes that he's less the great Emeril of his kitchen and more or less is just an unemployed sous chef with a laundry list of felonies, rather than a wish list of awful entrees. At least in that memory, he's neither a chef nor my wife's ex-friend's boyfriend and instead he's just another hideous orcish ****** ringing the doorbells in some suburb of Seattle, announcing to each and every one of his neighbors that he's obligated to notify the community of his ****** offenses.

I just wish I was there to witness his humiliation, and enjoy the total collapse of ego amidst the long list of those decent people he has surely offended.

Perhaps in some future life I can enjoy watching as jungle rot solves my hatred, disposing of his evilness in small skin ***** of flesh that dot the sidewalk while his disease evolves.

I want more vegan eating options across the food desert we call America. I want to arrive home one evening and find my wife ancy to share a new study that American Journal of Medixibe has found on the benefits of providing non-reciprocated ******* to your partners. And I want to be the first to enjoy the benefits of such a study, that I'm encouraged by her to publish my findings while I attend a prestigious university I once wasn't allowed to attend because of my religious background.

I want to live in a world where violence is no longer a viable solution to resolving the in differences we as humans confuse each other trying to make sense of between ourselves.

I want to visit our local grocery store and find that my favorite $8 a pint vegan ice cream has been marked down to a more reasonable number and that there is still an abundance of flavors left for me to choose from.

I don't wish for much: to not have people ask me to speak louder, full-frontal ****** in made for television movies, and a decent blonde IPA for under $10 in glass bottles. Where in this world can a poet go and still receive the respect that was once given by the royal monarchy of The British Empire.

Now it seems those with the fine knowledge of words are cast into a class with less regard than street-drifters and the homeless.

When did our world lose major respect for the artisans of fine art, or the ability to render an opus?

28-integer news memos and 15-second clips of our cute dog eating its own **** attract more attention than a fine explanation of the human condition or the sultry and sophisticated sounds of my Argentinian friend Anna recite Garcia Lorca in her native Spanish tongue.

I just want to be gone before there is a consequence for finding joy in the human condition, and honesty and integrity are known as the recividism that takes down our nation.

We were once the leaders of a great country. We were compelled by our history to create and indoctrinate one another to achieve, conceive, and amend ourselves to thrive amidst the uncertainty of a mischievous and disgraceful society. Now I just wish to be in bed with my wife when this storm of stupidity comes. I wish I never had to be on the receiving end of a sermon set forth by business leaders instead of political achievers.

I want Eddie to make herself some breakfast so I can lay here in bed a few more moments. I want pancakes and fresh fruit juice for breakfast, a quiet room and a hard-covered notebook. I want to believe a great pen and a good friend could lead me through the exciting and anxiety-writhing times in this life, but I to know too sadly that we live in a world where we don't view it as a weakness as those around us may not be able to read or may not be able to write.

You were my Queen of Hearts
A top card to draw
My Queen of Diamonds
In the ruff
The best I ever saw
Turned out
You were just a lump of coal
And just as cold
The Ace of Spades
With a very blackened soul
You made a Joker out of me

By Arcassin Burnham

Very nice! Good job!
Yeah you're starting to impress me at least you're not
A slob,
Who are you with? What's your plan?
I know I  shouldn't trust you but your taking quite a
Stand,

How you doing, what is up?
Not good at starting conversations why don't I just give up
Should I start ,or should you,
Glancing at me quite a bit in the last few hours , it's up to
You,
I'm just comfortable with my decisions,
Facing what I can not mention,
Things are complicated enough,
We just want an ascension,
Red strips on my shirts like where's waldo?
Sorry for random inconvenience , I need a taco.


/


I must feel lucky...
Winning you over....
Count the blessings....
Thank God I'm sober....
I'm,
Your inspiration.....
Ms. Can I get another minute.....
Or an hour or two.....
Even though we pivot,

Tight jeans screaming at the scenes of what's to gather,
Yeah,
Baby bear , momma bear , Papa Bear , family in convert,
Yeah,
Flowers blossom outside in the garden with pure bliss,
Insane actions with blood on your fist,

Don't make me take off the gloves in reaction times,
Don't make me take off my shoes cause my feet hurt,
Don't make me take off my shirt when we realize,
That your the only one I want for now all in due time,


Don't make me take off the gloves in reaction times,
Don't make me take off my shoes cause my feet hurt,
Don't make me take off my shirt when we realize,
That your the only one I want for now all in due time.

You have a smile like the joker,
As if we were playing poker,
And my luck was gone
When you left.

I am watching you
In my peripheral vision
And counting all the times you look at me (when you think I don't see)
By the end of the night it's at 43
That sounds pretty lucky to me

fish... fish... fish
in the pond today
I'm in need of a wish
please get out my way

rain... rain... rain
from the sky today
please do explain
why treat me this way?

grass... grass... grass
yes I see the wet grass
I'll just tip-toe on pass
CRAP! I fall on my ***

do,,, do... do
what should I do?
YUCK! gooey gooey goo
sticky gum on my shoe

gee... gee... gee
no umbrella with me
its just not my day
CRAP! I for got my key

phone... phone... phone
my battery is low
please don't  die
I need to call home

hair... hair... hair
get out my eye
its just not fair
I dont want to cry

wet... wet... wet
so freaking wet
this day is so my
unluckiest day yet

stuck... stuck... stuck
trapped under this
black cloudy sky
so much bad luck

today... today... today
I wish it would just
leave me alone
hurry up and  go away

I wish... I wish... I wish...

We laughed
You looked
I smiled
You got hooked
I felt amazed
By your staring
I felt that all you did was caring -
Me around like I was dealing with space
Time stoot still with every embrace

I felt so in love and in luck
We saw a shooting star
That was our moment
Our moment to pass on
Our wish, one thought
One wish with the purest luck

I looked at you
You gazed at me
And I smiled again
Watching the beautiful night sky with you holding my hand

Then I knew, we had one wish, one thought
The deepest feeling
**Pure Love