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Amy Shearn

Luck (The Election)

 

We were seeking luck charms in ridiculous places,

in truck stops and public beach bath rooms,

while the presidents danced in tuxedos, shadows obscuring their faces.

 

We wanted the one-sided pennies, and collections of bronze horse's faces.

We had high hopes for the seaweed, and for the toothless haircombs,

there seeking luck charms in ridiculous places.

 

Not wishing to fall from our country's good graces

we quietly dug for shellbits and casings, pulled whiskers from brooms,

while presidents danced in tuxedos, shadows obscuring their faces.

 

I know how well charms change exams, contests, races,

but we just couldn't stop, we had nothing but them, so

we were seeking luck charms in ridiculous places.

 

Perhaps we had too dim a hope, and only the barest traces

of luck.  Still we breathlessly followed each crash and each boom,

while presidents danced in tuxedos, shadows obscuring their faces.

 

Now we'll pack all our things into cases.

You can't take your good luck to the tomb.

We keep seeking luck charms in ridiculous places.

Meanwhile presidents dance in tuxedos, shadows obscuring their faces.

 


Amy Shearn lives, worries, and writes the occasional villanelle in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

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