God of Little Luck

Chase a thought to its tail & tail to root & root to dirt to grain to the word written on that grain like a magic trick which is another word for spell which is another word for prayer & you’ll find the place you started turned an unsatisfying answer, the same one that keeps showing up like a bad penny. The word is penny. The prayer is pick it up. The spell is luck. & you are the backyard magician’s assistant in sequins cut in half then put back together to the crowds delight or maybe you’re the magician throwing marshmallows in an arc across the plywood stage to the bear you raised from a cub or maybe you’re the bear standing on your hind legs. This is no life for a bear. & when they talk about what happens next they’ll name it bad luck but you’ll know you nurtured this moment, stewed it with rabbit’s foot & wishbone, cooked down to the buckeye you carried in your heart’s pocket & with a magic word unleashed.