Even miserable, minor coincidences
Are winning lottery tickets: the particular
Coincidence, or set of co-occurrences,
May have been absurdly improbable,
But given the vast swarms of phenomena,
Of continuously happening events and atoms,
The occasional cluster of absurdity’s inevitable.
In the space of a day, a peculiar sequence
Of spills, any one of which would be nothing much,
Combined to create a dread of poltergeists:
The milk spilled into the borrowed blue sofa,
The red wine soaked through the pages
Of the borrowed, out-of-print book, the glass
Knocked backwards on the picnic table,
The can of pop swept sideways, the soup,
A big tub of the fine, locally made gazpacho,
Exploded in the canvas sack of groceries
Right as it reached the checkout counter,
Chilled red goop seeping everywhere, clinging
To conveyor belt, fingers, and fresh vegetables.
The temptation, the strong temptation, is to fear.
Rain was coming down, the roads and walks
Were slick, and if this could be part of a surge
Of spills and tumbles, drive slowly, watch your step.
The gusts that blew the squalls through town
Might be part of a pattern might knock you down.
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