In Which Lame Things Are Happening to Relatively Good People.

they say bad things happen
in threes, so
one -- you woke up
this morning
before the sun, even though
it's summer and at this
time of year, the sun rises
even before the birds
start to wail and
two -- glass on the asphalt
glints prettier in the daylight
than the stars ever bother,
cuts so deep and smooth
you don't even notice until
you're bleeding
and then, finally,
three -- you're lost,
standing in the bright hardness
of this panting city and
wondering
how you got here,
where you were going,
why no one cares enough
to help you home.