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Mala Suerte
Full Article 2 minutes read

Ask me what it means to be lucky

and I won’t answer

 

Ask me what it means to be unlucky

and I’ll ask how much time you have

 

God sits among las nubes plucking

fourth leaves off of clovers

before tossing them down to me

 

He uses his sleeve to wipe away

rainbows after rain like chalk de la pizarra

Tips off thieves about the pot of gold

so my venture is always fruitless

 

He puts me between a rock and a hard place

Una escalera o oncoming traffic

Un gato negro o oncoming traffic

 

I’m destined to trip in piles of shoulder-thrown sal

To trip and see only dead ladybugs and conejos sin pies

 

My horses never have shoes and

I only ever choke on wishbones

 

I say buena suerte to my face

en el espejo pero how many years

of bad luck is it if it breaks

while staring at your reflection


Kayla Randolph is a poet, editor, and all-around lover of the written word. She’s an associate editor at USN&WR who gets to work on content about pets and a freelancer who works on vampires and aliens with author Xavier Poe Kane. Her publication credits include but are not limited to The Beatnik CowboyNixes Mate Review, and Divot: A Journal of Poetry. You can learn more on her website and see pictures of her dog Luna on her Instagram.

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