|
|
good_luck
|
|
|
raze
|
if the stopwatch lands on a clean second, with nothing but a pair of zeroes past the last decimal point. if i remember to ink an x on this day's glossy white paper face before it goes grey around the temples. if i look at the clock at 12:34 without meaning to or catch a new hour in the act of being born. if a_trick_of_the_light paints a hazy window in the place where the cold breath of morning meets the slow shuffle of the afternoon. if a ladybug lands on my bedroom wall and deigns to stay there for a while. if the toilet tank whispers something soulful without my encouragement. if i don't lose sleep to the stilted singing of a self-seeking train_whistle. if any or all of these things happen, i think the day might have something good to tell me. and if not, i'm always ready to be surprised.
|
220131
|
|
... |
|
|
tender_square
|
two red bird mints housed in a single cellophane package, their cane sugar dissolving on my tongue like the sweetness of a fulfilled wish.
|
220216
|
|
... |
|
|
epitome of incomprehensibility
|
If I'm traveling in a vehicle and I can blink when it's between streetlights or posts.
Jewels and glass beads.
In early childhood, symmetry of bead placement in necklaces and bracelets; in adolescence, patterns without strict symmetry.
|
220216
|
|
... |
|
|
kerry
|
an antique iron horseshoe above my front door
hung with ends up, it catches good luck
with ends down, fortune flows freely
|
220217
|
|
... |
|
|
tender_square
|
reaching for my phone a microsecond before the alarm sounded, which marked the end of meditation.
|
220222
|
|
... |
|
|
tender_square
|
if you cut the first two digits from the year, today is 2-22-22, which seems pretty lucky to me.
|
220222
|
|
... |
|
|
tender_square
|
touching my thumb to the third eye of a carved owl each time i pass under the gates of county farm park.
|
220619
|
|
... |
|
|
ovenbird
|
On my first day at a new school I tucked an ugly_cute treasure_troll into my backpack for luck. Later that evening I accidentally scorched its orange plastic hair on the reading lamp above my bed. It blackened and melted, along with the luck I hoped would deliver me to a place of belonging. Luck must have been inhabiting some other small trinket that day and I wonder still how my life might be different if I'd found the right fetish to guard my fragile heart.
|
251020
|
|
|
what's it to you?
who
go
|
blather
from
|
