Like a playing card
turned sideways,
a King or Jack,
as thin as invisible,
I see myself sometimes
as the card they pull
to bring the house down,
to miss the goal,
spoil the broth,
muck the pile,
screw the pooch.
Please—
build my stack,
kick me through,
stir my pot,
rake me up,
just pet me.
Try again.
Mercy thickens.
Originally published in Mad Swirl