I was reading the Atlantic today (political commentary, of course) and they took time out for this insightful poem by John Skoyles. I'm a lottery player, and often predict I will win in advance...keeping all hope alive. I loved this piece that's an ode to how many people pick the series of numbers they use over and over... enjoy.
THE LOTTERY
~John Skoyles
Pick a number,
any number,
and it will bear
the teeth marks of time.
The day confetti
stippled your shoulders
to keep love
bright and alive;
the year your newborn
son survived.
The two of us
riding the 33 bus
to the birthday bash
where a prophetic
blues band played
“You’ve Changed.”
The magnificent sum
of always, now, and still
dealt by the god
who pinched fate
into every living vein.
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