The Horse of Luck
by Evan Daily

 

Oh rib-caged house of luck

where birds in dark robes pick chips

and bits of paper cut like stars

and crow the lot of people’s lives

who will emigrate between heavens, between hells,

or between violins and snake skins—

Oh crows, if I promise to remove all the scarecrows

from the street corners,

on nights when rain rushes into the gutters

please send the horse that leaps

off of its two hind legs

and can hide me in his mane between two rain drops.