Lucky, A Poem by Chris Russell

What haunts me is my father’s death

and the fear that my memories of him will

clog my heart up.

Not long after his wake I became unemployed,

got a divorce, had to move to a studio,

and stopped going to the cafes

no matter how good their French roast.

I changed in ways I didn’t ask for.

Now even simple things seem to have grown

as hard as his arteries.

Lucky for me I can see the negative side of

pretty much anything.

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