Thursday, August 29, 2013

Shlameel, Shlamazel

I could have broken a row of mirrors,
running by with a stick straight out

or wandered behind Chinese restaurants blindly,
crossing black cats' paths like live wires

and then walked away whistling good fortune,
hands in pockets, safely away from all wood.

Instead, I farted caution into the coming breeze,
stuck a fork into the toaster of life

and went to work

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