LUCKY THIRTEEN By Tom Jensen
He’s at it again…
He’s summoned his friends
They’re now all here in his head
A baker’s dozen breaking bread
When one of them asked him for wine
“Some other time” is what another replied
We’ve much work to do
Many plans to be laid
We must keep our wits
Carry on without delay
The world doesn’t want us
Nor have we ever wanted it
Yet the day is now upon us
To make a fist or slit our wrists
Just then the votes were counted
As my side lost…
Seven to six
Five fingers begin to close
My arm raises high
I shake my fist...