Colonel (wasn’t a real one) Sanders—failed.
Farm hand, steamboat conductor, fireman,
blacksmith assistant, railroad, too many to list—
fired from three of them for fighting.
Wound up in a gas station where his wife
made a finger-lickin’ chicken recipe,
which Harland pressured-cooked
into a national franchise.
Marketed it and sold it,
called the gravy of the new company—
“wall paper paste” and sued.
Lucked into riches and fame.
Leob/Levi Strauss —failed.
His tarps out east
too thin for wagon covers.
Took his canvas and skills
to the love of San Fran.
Still too thin for the grizzled prospectors,
they made fine pants,
sold like KFC chicken.
When he ordered more canvas,
his brother sent him denim instead
and Levis were born,
later bell bottoms for hippies.
Lucked into riches and fame.
Bottle the elbow grease,
keep on prospectin’,
throw on your jeans,
grab a plate, dig in
and enjoy your luck.
Originally Published in Euphemism Magazine