Luck

by Seth Rogovoy

 

Luck
You’re no lady tonight
In your faux-silk undergarments
And your phony French perfume.

You should see yourself
Scattered all over the place
Like a storm whipped through here
Leaving havoc in its wake.

You call yourself lucky?
Luck has nothing to do with it
It’s skill what did it
That and pluck
The pluck of the Irish
And a modicum of charm.

What did I do to deserve this?
Nothing, I say.
Fortune calls
And I answer, that’s all.
It could just as easily have happened to you
But you happened to me
Pleased.
To meet me.

Look in the mirror
You strumpet
You lady luck
Hah! I say.
Hah.

Written for the WordXWord April 30/30 Poetry Challenge