I with my royal straight flush,
love you so for your wild card,
that untamable, eternal, gut-driven ha-ha
and lucky love." - Anne Sexton
So esoteric, you
accommodate me at times,
That I should roll snake-eyes
or pick a winning number
with no grounds and not a “thank you”
for my part to be the blest bastard. But then,
to be trumped by every stop-light
or fathom a turn of hard-luck so
lethal, I squirm in the puddles of
self-pity and moan of the great
injustice of this world like I understand
it all so well. Ha!
Deal me in… I say.
Let me play with the big boys.
Let me smoke my luck and drink my advantage
like my supply of chips at the bank is unending.
Are you looking over my shoulder God?