Great Lottery in the Sky

The first time I ever played
a lottery ticket, I won.
I think it was $5, paid on
the spot (this was the 1970s
after all). And I couldn't
have been more than five myself,
downstairs around the corner
at the pharmacy for God knows what.
I haven't won a single thing
ever again. I'm eternally unlucky,
in bets, in love, in general
circumstance. In the great lottery
taking place in the heavens,
I've come up rather short.
I suppose I should be happy I
haven't landed myself in jail,
at least not permanently. But
even that fact doesn't really
bring a smile to my face.
And then I stop to think maybe
I should consider myself lucky
to be a college graduate.
I did indeed barely make it out
alive. In the end I always come
back to feeling lucky to be
a member of the first world,
to have potable water coming from
several taps in my house, not to
have bombs and madmen exploding
all around me, not to know that
half the children will die from
diarrhea this year. Aside from
this simple, original fact,
of my being born an American,
I can't say as I feel all that
lucky. I can only hope
a trip to Vegas might help
get my head screwed on straight
again (with the help of a few
card-counting tricks). That or
it'll have to be winning Lotto.

(2008)