April Poetry Month, Taken in Blog, Means Leaning into the List.

An unfortunate recipe that wasn’t built correctly. A shallow reading of the directions that had me putting cake batter in the wrong-sized pans. The oven too hot, too cold, off temperature, too old.

A bad choice of vehicle brands – even though every day felt like Christmas when I stepped into that car.

A stop sign run by someone else.

That boy, those shoes, those overly sweet, cheap drinks, that hairstyle–let’s just say, the early eighties. (Okay, late eighties with the hair.)

The trips I said no to. The adventures I wouldn’t take. The no to new. (So glad I got over that. It’s all adventure.)

The words were withholding. When I wouldn’t go where the words were leading me. The words weren’t working. The words were working, the form wasn’t. Neither the words, nor the form, was working.

The day was too short for the needing to get done.  The checklist too long for the hour. The fact that I had an excess of the wrong thing – things to do. The too-short hours.

Also, and this is important. I don’t believe in luck.