Friday the 13th

the steps are blind and the room is spinning like a dead-weight
on a chain around a man's bulging neck—tonight is the night when black cats
and walking under ladders make nothing worse, only slightly better
because the blind can only lead themselves so far.

i'd rather be dead than dumb: i'd rather be dying than alone.
it's all my curse, my separation from God and the Virgin Mary
all because i mixed holy water in my martini
and lit my cigarette with a sacramental candle.

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