Recent Poems

Thirteen

There is a certain number that gives me the willies.
It seems to haunt and pursue me wherever I go.
Some say I'm superstitious. They tell me I'm silly.
And some say that I'm not scared, that I put on a show.

Perhaps if you walk under a ladder tomorrow
Or spill every ounce of table salt during your lunch,
You'll realize the true meaning behind all my sorrow
And you'll see that it's something more than a silly hunch.